Anora's Pride

by Kathleen Lawless

  Ben crumpled into a chair. “They're going to kill me, Nory.”

  Anora rushed to kneel at his side. His thin shoulders were shaking with silent sobs, and she laid her cheek against his back. She and Ben had to stick together. They were all each other had.

  She stayed like that till he seemed to have himself under control, then she rose and lit the fire. The coffeepot was still half full from the morning, so she set it to heat. Nothing like a nice cup of coffee to make things look less bleak.

  “Now then,” she said briskly, as she set a cup in front of Ben and added two spoonfuls of sugar, the way he liked. “What's all this about someone wanting to kill you? Sounds more like a misunderstanding to me. Who is it making these threats?”

  Ben slurped his coffee noisily. “Just some guys. Don't rightly know their names.”

  “Where did you meet up with them?”

  “In town. The saloon,” he added, as if Anora didn't already know that for herself. “We were just having a friendly game.”

  Anora exhaled sharply.

  “I know, I know.” Ben held up a hand as if to stem her unvoiced objections. “Like father, like son. But I was winning all night, Nory. Doing real well. Then I got dealt me an awesome full house.” His face registered his disappointment. “Beat out by a royal flush.”

  “I thought you said you were winning.”

  Ben shrugged. “I was. Last hand of the night, though, the stakes went real high. Fellas agreed to take my IOU.” He clutched her hand. “I didn't think I could lose, Nory. All that money. I did it for us. For you. I know you hanker after nice things. I wanted to make you proud. Buy you the fanciest gown this here town has ever seen. And a horse.” He waved a hand through the air. “Fix up this dump.”

  Anora's breath whistled through her teeth as she exhaled. It was a familiar refrain, one she had heard countless times over the years, from their pa. Only the fancy gown and nice home never quite appeared as promised. Always just within his grasp, whisked away by the turn of a card. Instead, all she got was a life filled with uncertainty. A life Ben was threatening to take her back to.

  “You sound just like Pa. You want to end up like him? ‘Cause you're well and good on your way.”

  “I learned my lesson, I swear. Never again. If you could help me out, just this once.”

  “How much do you owe?”

  “Two hundred dollars.”

  Anora blanched. No way could she manage that much and save for his operation at the same time. She had to get him to that hospital. And if he felt more able-bodied he wouldn't get had by smooth-talking card sharks. “I don't have that kind of money. And even if I did I wouldn't countenance you handing it over to some trickster. Sounds to me like you were being cheated all along. Dealt a half-good hand, only the other fellow's is better.”

  “You think I'm some poor dumb schmuck who lets himself be cheated?”

  Anora pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I think you were playing with dishonest men.”

  Ben straightened. “A gentleman always pays his debt.”

  Anora smiled weakly. Ben really was doing his best to be the man of the family. It wasn't his fault the gambling was in his blood. “You find these fellas tomorrow. Tell them you'll pay, you just need a little time. Give them some—I'll get it from Lettie—so they know you're sincere. I mean, if they up and kill you, they won't ever get paid, now will they? I'm sure they've already thought of that.”

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  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Lettie made no secret of her disapproval as she watched Anora count out twenty dollars and pass it to Ben, who clutched the money in his fist and ambled off.

  “Throwin’ good money after bad, is what you're doing,” the older woman muttered.

  “This is none of your concern, Lettie. Much as I value your friendship, I won't have you talking that way about Ben.”

  Lettie pulled a face and changed the subject. “You hear the latest?”

  “What latest?”

  “Big rustling over at the Bar X. Smithy don't rightly know yet how many head gone missing. Marshal's out there now. Smithy wanted to put together a posse to follow them. ‘Pears Quantrill has something else in mind.”

  It struck Anora that Jesse had himself several “something elses” in mind. Telling herself it didn't matter, she said her good-byes to Lettie and was preparing to go down to the train station when Jake from the telegraph office burst into the store.

  “Just got a message here from Philly,” he said, waving a scrap of paper in the air as if it were a flag. “Seems we got ourselves a full-boil railway strike.”

  “A strike?” Anora glanced in disbelief from Lettie to Jake and back to Lettie. “That can't be.”

  Jake nodded emphatically, the few remaining hairs atop his head, which he attempted to spread as far as possible, lifting with the movement. “The AFL has been trying to negotiate higher wages for the unskilled workers. Earlier today, in Texas, a couple dozen masked men forced their way on board and tossed the fireman and engineer off. They disabled the engine.”

  “Texas?” So far away. “Surely that doesn't mean—”

  “This here strike has been brewing for some time, clear across the country. I predict we'll see plenty more violence before it's ended.”

  Anora lowered herself stiffly into a rocking chair near the big old unlit woodstove. A strike spelled disaster. It meant unemployment for those of the townspeople who counted on the railway for their livelihood. Including her. She thought of the twenty dollars she'd just given Ben to buy some time for his gambling debts. A rail strike meant no customers for her wares. No money. No operation to fix Ben's leg. She felt nauseous.

  The store was unnaturally silent as, all around her, the citizens of Boulder Springs digested this latest bit of news. Anora's insides were awhirl with panic. The same feeling of helplessness had assailed her every time Pa had announced they were pulling up stakes. Not this time, she vowed. This time she was staying put. Strike or no, she'd get that money. She'd find a way.

  Ben, his face solemn, was making his way toward her.

  “Anora, what is it?”

  She tried to moisten her dry lips. To form words of reassurance the way she always did, but none would come.

  “There's a rail strike.”

  She watched his gaze lower to the twenty dollars still clutched in his fist, before he straightened and turned away.

  “Where are you going?”

  His voice, when it came back to her, was faintly muffled. “Doin’ what I got to do.”

  As she watched him retreat with his off-kilter gait, a feeling of infinite sadness welled up inside her. A short time ago she would have tried to stop him. Would have done her darnedest to pretend things were fine even though everything was a mess.

  She felt a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and looked up to see Lettie, concern registered on her kindly face. The first time she'd met Lettie, with her jutting jaw and thin-pinched features, she'd expected to be skewered by an equally sharp tongue.

  Nothing could be farther from the truth. Lettie had a heart of pure melted gold, and an equally soft spot for strays.

  “I expect old Jake's mostly blowing his horn. Makes him feel important, hon. Leave your lunches out back in the icebox. I bet your weight in beans the old iron horse will be back on schedule tomorrow.”

  “You think so, Lettie?”

  “I do. Now why don't you run along and have yourself some fun. Treat today like a holiday.”

  Anora left the store in somewhat of a daze.

  Outside it felt as if the entire town was shrouded in a subdued air, preparing for changes in the offing. Do something fun, Lettie had said. Trouble was, Anora had never in her life done anything that could be called “fun.” Occasionally, over the years, she'd met young women near her age. She'd overheard them giggling about beaus. Jawing about a town dance. Singing in the choir. Shopping for a new hat or some satin hair ribbons. No room in her life
for such doings. Never had been and never would be.

  Still, Anora couldn't resist a slight detour past the marshal's office, her pace slowing to a crawl as she tilted her head just enough to peer through the window without appearing obvious. Alas, Jesse wasn't anywhere to be seen, and at the sight of his unoccupied desk she couldn't quite credit the disappointment that seeped through her. Guiltily she speeded up her pace, glancing from left to right to make sure she was unobserved. What would folks think? ‘Specially Jesse if he caught her mooning outside his office like some schoolgirl with a giant crush. For shame!

  Back at the Three Boulders, Anora was too distracted to settle in to any of the chores that would normally hold her interest. Instead, she took a slim novel out to read on the porch. Under Penny's tutelage her reading skills had improved immensely.

  Unfortunately, the book failed to capture her interest for long. It was a fanciful tale of a family whose life was so improbably perfect that Anora wound up feeling worse off than before she knew how to read. The fictional mother's love and support of her young children was as foreign to Anora as the soft, new sheets and abundant food also made mention of. No one lived that way. Did they?

  Anora recalled her own mother, who'd died from a snakebite in the middle of nowhere. No matter how unhappy Ma had been, being dragged from town to town with their pa, the thought of finding herself left alone had thrown her into some kind of vapor. Trouble was, except for herself and Ben, their mother had died alone. Pa had stumbled back to camp three days later, hungover and broke.

  That was the same year as Ben's accident. Pa had set her brother's broken leg, made such a mess of it, it had healed crooked, getting worse as he got older. In her heart of hearts she just knew that famous surgeon in Boston could help Ben if anyone could.

  At an early age Anora had learned she had only herself to rely on. Wasn't anyone else going to come along and make things rosy for her. Least of all a man. More than likely, fixing her sights on a fellow would only weaken her resolve to do right by herself. She liked being alone. Enjoyed her solitude just fine.

  No sooner had the thought taken root before her solitude was interrupted by the sound of an approaching rider. At first she thought it must be Ben, coming home early for a change. Except Ben's nag had never moved so fast, and her view of the approaching horse and rider confirmed the worst. Jesse Quantrill, come to make her life a misery. How, she didn't rightly know. But her instinct sounded a warning she didn't dare ignore.

  “Good day, Mrs. King. Is your husband about?”

  “ ‘Fraid not, Marshal. Shame you rode all this way for nothing.”

  Jesse took his time as he dismounted and climbed the rickety steps to the porch. Each tread creaked ominously under his weight. He flashed her a smile, the likes of which nearly took her breath clean away. “I wouldn't say for nothing, exactly. Not when it affords me a chance to gaze upon you.”

  His compliment unfurled something warm and fuzzy deep inside Anora. Before she could enjoy the sensation it shifted abruptly, turned into a voice that screamed “danger.” The man before her, with his glib tongue and ready smile, represented a threat on some primitive emotional level, the likes of which she'd never come up against. The security and independence she prized would be no more if ever a man like Jesse Quantrill gained entry into her life. Into her heart.

  “Such a hot, dusty day, Marshal. Could I offer you a glass of lemonade before you head back into town?”

  “Much obliged. A glass of lemonade'd go down real good right about now.”

  “I'll be right back.”

  Anora set her book aside and went into the cabin, careful to pull the door firmly shut behind her. Looking down, she was dismayed to see her hands were shaking worse than she'd thought.

  He can't hurt me, she told herself firmly. Not if I don't give him the chance.

  She couldn't live her life steeped in fear, either. Which was why she'd fought down her earlier instinct to jump up and run inside. To cower in the cabin till he left. Lord almighty. What might happen if the man had the faintest inkling he had that sort of power over her?

  Jesse propped himself against the porch railing, but feeling the flimsy post sway beneath his weight, he quickly altered his stance. He picked up the book Anora had set down and flipped through the pages, curious to see what kind of reading a woman like her would be doing. He wasn't surprised to find it was the fairy-tale variety. Folks like these fictional characters didn't exist in this world. Leastways, none that he'd run across.

  When Anora returned, he was leaning against the shack's front wall, a scant arm's length from her stool. He took the glass of lemonade she held toward him, hoisted it in a silent toast and downed the tart liquid. She didn't resume her seat, and Jesse had the distinct feeling she was waiting for him to drink up and go. Something he had no intention of doing just yet.

  “Any news on the strike?” she asked, her hands burrowing in the folds of her apron.

  “No good news, I'm afraid. A crowd gathered earlier in Big Spring Creek. Hundreds of them got together and pushed the cars off the tracks. After which they set the property on fire.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Emotional times, these. On the one hand you've got your rail line owners, who the unions feel are taking unfair advantage of their workers and pocketing huge profits. The employers feel they're being more than fair, reinvesting their profits back into the rail lines and creating more jobs. The poor unfortunate workers get caught in the middle.”

  Anora nodded silently, her lower lip clamped between her teeth.

  “None of which bodes well for the business- person such as yourself, what with your livelihood dependent on having the line run.”

  “Will it be a long strike, do you suppose?”

  “I hope not. It's bad all ways around for the town. Whereabouts did you say your husband was?”

  “I didn't say. Why?”

  Jesse inhaled deeply. “The men who rustled Smithy's cattle last night. One of them was spotted standing watch. I'm afraid the description matches your husband. Right down to the horse he rides.”

  Jesse knew he didn't imagine the coldness that crept into her voice. “Ben was here with me last night. All night.”

  “You're certain he didn't leave? Even for a short while?”

  “Look around you, Marshal.” Anora waved her arm. The movement stretched the fabric of her bodice, pulled it tight across her breasts. “Do you see any rustled cattle? Any signs that Ben and I are living a life of luxury on ill-gotten gains?”

  “So you don't mind if I have myself a look around?”

  She did mind. He could see it by the brief flash of panic in her eyes. Anora King was scared spitless of what he'd find on this ranch. Something that she'd prefer remain unfound.

  She raised her chin a notch, her eyes meeting his. “I've got nothing to hide. And neither does Ben.” In that instant he felt a stab of sympathy for her. She would be old and used up way before her time, same as his ma. Unhappy, too, the same way as Rose.

  Jesse didn't cotton to being lied to, but he gave her credit for the way she did her best to sound like she meant it when she said she had nothing to hide. Still, her eyes gave her away: wide-open and shadowed by fear. A slight tremble rocked her slender frame.

  He flashed her a grin that was designed to help put her at her ease. “Good. I believe I'll start with having a look-see in the barn.”

  To his dismay she placed herself directly in front of him, blocking his way to the barn.

  “There's nothing in there.”

  He took a determined step forward, feeling like a bully. Telling himself he was only doing his job. “Then it won't matter if I take a little look.”

  “I tell you, you're wasting your time. You should be out catching those thieves instead of harassing innocent citizens.”

  Before he had a chance to respond, a second horse and rider appeared at the top of the drive.

  “Here's Ben now. You can ask him yourself about last ni
ght, seeing as how you don't believe me.” They both turned and watched Ben King ride up and execute his awkward dismount. Ben's shuttered glance settled on Anora.

  “What's going on?”

  “Where were you last night?” Jesse asked. Wherever he'd been, King didn't look as if he'd gotten much sleep. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His clothing was dirty and rumpled.

  When Anora opened her mouth to speak, Jesse laid a restraining hand on her arm.

  “Let him answer for himself.”

  “I was here on the ranch all night. Isn't that right, Nory?”

  “I told him that,” Anora said. “ ‘Cept he didn't see fit to believe me.”

  “Got an eyewitness places you at Smithy's the same time thirty head of his cattle disappeared.”

  Ben struck a cocky pose. “Maybe your witness ought to get his eyesight checked. ‘Cause you got another eyewitness says I was here with her.”

  Jesse let his glance stray from Ben to Anora and back to Ben. “You got any objections if I look inside the barn?”

  “Not a one.”

  Jesse heard Anora's sharply indrawn breath. “I think I'll just do that, then.” Stepping around Anora, Jesse made his way across the yard and into the barn's shadowy recesses. The building had a stale, unused smell that matched the general air of neglect pervading the Three Boulders Ranch. As if life had given up and gone away. Jesse peered into a few rickety and unoccupied stalls, his nose assuring him that no animals had been housed in here for quite some time. And certainly not last night.

  He stepped back into the sunlight and squinted against the brightness. Anora stood next to Ben, speaking in low, intense tones, words that Jesse couldn't catch. The sun behind Anora silhouetted her shapely limbs through her thin cotton gown. Seeing the two of them together Jesse couldn't help but shake his head at the unlikeliness of the match. The one good thing, far as he could see, was that Anora didn't have a passel of whining, hungry brats pulling at her skirts. Yet. The thought of her carrying that tinhorn's child wasn't something he cared to contemplate. Neither was the disquiet that lodged in his gut at the thought.