by Jo Goodman
Ellen labored for two days to deliver a breech baby. Dr. Kent and the midwife did what they could to help her. In the end, they were only able to ease her pain. The baby, when it finally came, was stillborn, and Ellen died without holding it.
She was buried with her unnamed infant boy in the graveyard on the outskirts of town. Adam Berry’s marker was beside hers. None of the Burdicks expressed condolences, but Raine learned they heard about Ellen’s death from some of their drovers who came into the Pennyroyal. Raine was left to wonder if Uriah would have made a claim on the baby if he had lived. It pained her to admit that sometimes she thought it was a blessing that she never had to find out.
In Raine’s mind, the Burdicks were responsible for Ellen’s death. Isaac had murdered her. Clay and Eli had helped him. Uriah had raised his boys to believe they could take what they wanted, and mostly they had.
Thirteen months after Ellen was buried, Marshal Sterling went back out to the Burdick place because he heard rumblings that Isaac had shown up. He returned slumped in his saddle, shot once in the chest and once in the gut. Some said he was mistaken for a rustler, but no one came forward to admit being the one who made the mistake. Mrs. Sterling believed he was set up for it, first by the circulating rumors, then by his new deputy, who took sick and did not ride out with him.
Raine shared Mrs. Sterling’s opinion.
Moses T. Parker, the prosecutor from Rawlins, hanged himself in his office three months later. John Hood, a juryman, read about the death and told everyone he was leaving Bitter Springs for Denver. Death found him in a fire in St. Louis and his charred remains were sent back to his family. Now the jury’s foreman, Hank Thompson, hadn’t been heard from.
Kellen placed a small question mark beside the man’s name and put down his pen. Alive or dead? They might never know.
Rabbit and Finn sat on the bar eating smoked ham and mustard on a hard roll while Raine tallied the profits from the previous evening and worked on her liquor order. She looked up from her work when she heard heels tapping against the side of the bar. Finn caught himself but not soon enough.
“Sorry, Mrs. Berry.”
The apology was garbled by a mouthful of food, but Raine judged it was sincerely meant. “You sound like a woodpecker.”
“Yeth, ma’am.”
“You boys have enough? Mrs. Sterling will make you more if you like.”
Rabbit answered before Finn swallowed. “This is plenty of regular food, but if Mrs. Sterling has some brownies…”
Raine smiled. “I’m sure she does. Eat that first.”
“Did you see where Mr. Coltrane went this morning?” Rabbit asked.
“I didn’t,” she said absently.
“Thought maybe he’d be back by now.”
Finn said, “He’s not, though.”
Raine murmured something and continued to add figures.
“Do you think he’s target shooting?” asked Rabbit.
“That’d be a fine thing to hear about,” said Finn. “Leastways I would like to hear about it.”
Raine set her pencil down and looked up again. “Why would Mr. Coltrane be target shooting?”
Rabbit and Finn exchanged glances. They were each using two hands to hold their ham rolls. They raised the sandwiches in unison and took deep bites.
Raine turned her chair away from the table and stared at them. They made a point of chewing thoroughly before swallowing. “Your granny would be so pleased.” She held up one finger. “Not another bite. Tell me now. What’s this about target shooting?”
Finn twisted his head to survey the saloon. He leaned so far backward over the bar to take a look that Rabbit had to grab him by the collar to keep him from going ass over teakettle.
“There’s no one here,” said Raine. “Walt’s picking up supplies and Mrs. Sterling’s in the kitchen. Tell me.”
“He got a horse at the livery first thing this morning,” Rabbit said. “We saw him from our bedroom window on account Finn had to piss and didn’t want to use the privy.”
“Rabbit was trying to shut the window on my—”
Raine’s quelling look stopped Finn cold. “I understand. This was at sunup?”
“Not so you’d notice the sun yet,” said Rabbit, “but you’d know it was coming soon. We saw him plenty clear.”
“I see.”
“Mr. Ransom gave him Cronus. I figure he must be a good rider.”
“Or plum crazy,” Finn said helpfully.
Rabbit rolled his eyes and went on. “We watched him for a piece. We went up to the attic to get a better look. Saw him head out south and east. Figured he was goin’ to follow the Medicine Bow a ways. Maybe where there’s plenty of cover in the pines and boxelders. That’s a good place to shoot.”
“He wasn’t heading to the Burdicks. That’s for sure.”
Raine shook her head. “You have guns on your mind. Both of you. Mr. Coltrane probably just wanted to see the country.”
The boys were skeptical.
“You’re used to walking outside with the plains and mountains as far as you can see. I don’t think that’s Mr. Coltrane’s experience.”
“Maybe not,” said Finn. “But he was pretty smart to take his Colts just the same.”
Raine frowned. “How do you know that?”
Rabbit shrugged and said, “Saw him pack them in his bag. He left the livery and didn’t like the way things were settling on Cronus, or maybe Cronus was just being ornery, but he stopped, dismounted, and commenced to emptying his saddlebag. He strapped on one of the Peacemakers under his long coat and put the other back.”
Raine forced a semblance of calm she did not feel and asked as if it were neither here nor there, “Have you mentioned this to your granny?”
“No. She doesn’t want to hear about guns.”
“Then your pap?”
Finn shook his head. “He thinks Mr. Coltrane is a gambler. Rabbit says we shouldn’t try to change his ways. Makes him pained.”
“That’s probably wise.” She picked up her pencil and tapped it lightly against the table.
“You sound like a woodpecker,” Finn told her.
She managed a chuckle. “Why don’t you take your rolls into the kitchen and see Mrs. Sterling about those brownies?” The boys jumped off the bar before she was finished. She watched them hightail it out of the saloon before she returned to her work. “What are you doing, Mr. Coltrane?” she asked under her breath. “What in God’s name are you doing now?”
Kellen returned to the Pennyroyal a few hours before dinner was served. He used the backstairs to avoid the other guests and, he hoped, most of the staff. Sue Hage passed him in the hallway, but she kept her head down and hurried along. He bade her good afternoon, knowing she wouldn’t take it as an invitation for conversation.
In his room, he immediately stowed the guns, holsters, and ammunition in the valise and pushed it back under the bed. He would require more ammunition and a gun belt for the .44. The other Colt felt too light in his hand and didn’t have the range he wanted. It was a safe assumption that Nat Church did not strap on both weapons at the same time. The .45 with its shorter barrel was likely the last chance piece. Kellen decided that was the best use for it, tucked out of sight, perhaps at the small of his back, where it did not show under his duster.
He shrugged out of his coat and threw it on the bed, then went to the bathing room and ran hot water in the tub. He stripped, folding and stacking his clothes on a stool as he removed each piece. Too impatient for the water to reach his chest, he kept it running and slipped into the tub when it was only a few inches deep. He splashed water on the sides and back of the tub, then eased into a comfortable recline and closed his eyes.
Within moments he was asleep.
Mrs. Sterling had her hands full of dough and boys. She punched the dough hard enough to make a small dust cloud of flour rise from the breadboard. “Isn’t your granny missing you about now?”
“Doubt it,” said Finn.
/> “Don’t you have chores?”
Rabbit rubbed his chin the way his pap did when he was thinking deeply. “No,” he said finally. “I believe we got them all done. Pap asked us to bring the new feller here and that’s what we did.”
“Who is our new guest?”
“Mr. Jones. Mr. John Paul Jones. Just like the admiral.”
Mrs. Sterling grunted softly as she folded the dough and put her fist into it again. “That’s a lot of name to live up to.”
Rabbit nodded. “He says he’s no kin to the other. I asked. We had to explain it all to Finn since he didn’t know who John Paul Jones was.”
Finn took exception to this. “Sure, I knew. I watched him get off the express train same as you did.”
“The other John Paul Jones. The naval hero.”
“Oh,” Finn said. “Well, there’re no stories about him in my reader.”
“That’s because you’re still in the primer.” Rabbit could not have put more disdain in his voice. “When you get in the third reader, you’ll learn all about him.”
“Well, I know about him now, don’t I? And I don’t think he’s as interesting as Mr. Coltrane.”
Mrs. Sterling stopped what she was doing and cut the heel from a loaf of bread that was still warm from the oven. She spread a dollop of blackberry jam on it and handed each boy half. “I swear you two have a leg as hollow as Eli Burdick’s.”
“He eats you out of house and home?” asked Finn. “That’s what the Widder Berry says we do. Except she has a hotel, so I don’t think she’s saying it right.”
Rabbit jabbed his brother with an elbow. “Eli drinks. That’s what Mrs. Sterling’s saying. He drinks a lot.” He looked at the cook for confirmation. “Isn’t that right?”
“You did not hear it from me.”
“I didn’t. I heard it from my granny.” He jabbed Finn again. “Stop that.”
Finn looked up from the slice of jam bread. “What?”
“Stop sprinkling me.”
Finn’s look of bewilderment was sincere. “I don’t—” A droplet of water splashed his jam bread. Studying it, his eyes crossed. “Hey! How did you do that?”
Mrs. Sterling looked up from her work to see what this fresh round of bickering was about. She was in time to see a water droplet hitting Rabbit’s stubborn cowlick. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling. Another droplet was squeezing its way between the tin tiles. It hung for a moment, fell, and another one took its place.
“Oh, dear.” She grabbed her apron to clean flour off her hands. “You boys run up to Mr. Coltrane’s room and turn the water off. I’ll find Lorraine.”
Rabbit and Finn stared at her, hardly believing their good fortune.
“Go! Now!” She clapped her hands together to startle them to activity. “Hurry.”
They jumped off their stools and tried to elbow each other out of the way as they ran out of the kitchen for the dining room and the main staircase.
“Should’ve gone the other way,” Rabbit said as they charged up the stairs.
“Was goin’ to,” Finn said, “but you pushed me this way.”
“Did not.”
“Did.”
Rabbit got the edge in the footrace when they rounded into the hallway and he had the inside curve. Finn grabbed the hem of Rabbit’s jacket and hung on. They skidded to a halt outside of Mr. Coltrane’s door with Rabbit slightly overshooting his mark.
Finn grabbed the glass knob and twisted it, but Rabbit got inside first. Neither of them bothered to shut the door but commenced to shouldering each other out of the way as soon as they were inside. They squeezed through the bathing room door together and lost their footing in the puddles on the floor. Finn thumped on his butt and bounced like a skipped stone before coming to a halt beside the tub. Rabbit had more forward momentum and went down face first, grabbing the stool as he fell and upending all the neatly folded clothes stacked on it.
The commotion roused Kellen from a deep sleep. He required a moment to make sense of where he was and then another moment to make sense of what he was seeing. He sat up, reached for the taps, and turned them off. He felt between his feet for the drain plug and gave it a tug. The water level started to dip almost immediately.
He looked over at the boys. They were frozen in place. Finn’s head barely cleared the lip of the tub, and Rabbit was lying spread-eagle on the floor, clutching the stool but none of the clothes. “Don’t you have chores to do at home?”
They shook their heads in unison.
“Huh.” Kellen plugged the drain again and leaned back. He rested his arms on the rim of the tub. He was not abandoning a warm bath. “Did you bring a mop? Some rags?”
They shook their heads again. Rabbit offered, “Mrs. Sterling told us to shut the water off.”
“Seems as though you should find something else to do since I took care of that job for you.”
The boys frowned. There was some kind of hole in that logic, but they couldn’t see their way through to it.
“There are extra towels in the bottom of the wardrobe. Put one by the stove where it will be warm for me and use the rest of them to wipe up. You might as well take my clothes and the towel I was going to use out of here. Wring them out at the sink first, then lay them over a chair in the other room and move the chair closer to the stove.” A thought occurred to him. “And don’t catch anything on fire.”
“Yes, sir,” said Rabbit. “Right away. We can do that.”
Kellen nodded and closed his eyes. He listened to them scrambling to their feet and their under-the-breath jabs, but he did not comment. The boys thrived on an audience. It was no surprise that their grandparents set them loose on the town the moment they found themselves at sixes and sevens.
Rabbit and Finn marched back and forth between the two rooms in the completion of their new chore. Finn poked around a little in the bedroom, trying to see if he could find the guns, but Rabbit caught him and wouldn’t let him out of his sight after that.
Finn was wringing out the last wet towel when the cavalry arrived. It was the Pennyroyal cavalry so Finn was not impressed that Walt was carrying a mop or that the Widder Berry had a bucket full of rags. He also thought it was strange that for all the fuss about a little water spilling into the kitchen, neither one of them rushed into the room. Walt let the Widder Berry go first, real gentlemanly-like.
“Well,” Raine said, surveying the scene. “Rabbit. Finn. You have done an admirable job here. Leave the towel, Finn. I’ll take care of it. You boys need to go. Tell Mrs. Sterling I said you could have a couple of brownies to take with you. She won’t believe you, but you’ll wheedle them out of her anyway.” Behind her, she heard Walt chuckle quietly, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kellen’s mouth twitch.
The boys thanked her and darted through the small space that separated her from Walt. When Raine heard the door slam behind them, she set her bucket on the floor. “I’ll step into the other room, Walt. Mop up what the boys couldn’t.” To Kellen, she said, “We’ll speak later.”
Kellen took that to mean she would corner him at dinner or soon afterward. When he walked into the bedroom after Walt left, he found Raine was waiting for him. She was sitting on the bed since every other available surface had some article of clothing hanging from it. Her knees were drawn up and her heels hooked on the iron bed frame. Most surprising, she had thrown his beaten leather long coat around her shoulders and was huddled inside it. Kellen pushed aside the chair that was blocking the heat from the stove, but that was done primarily for his comfort. She had his coat. He had a towel.
Her concession to his modesty was to close her eyes.
“I think you’re peeking,” he said.
“No,” she said. “I’m not. And don’t flatter yourself that I’m lying.” Which, of course, she was. Kellen Coltrane had broad shoulders and a torso that tapered to a vee. The towel hung loosely on slim hips. Droplets of water clung to the ends of his longish hair. Most of them fell when he rubbed the back of
his neck. She followed the line of one particular drop all the way to the arrow of hair below his navel. She raised the collar of his coat and ducked her head to hide the flush in her cheeks.
He made a circling motion with his index finger, indicating she should turn around. When she didn’t, he asked, “Do you mind?”
“No, I don’t. I really don’t.”
Perhaps she wasn’t looking, he thought, and then wondered why she wasn’t. If there was ever an opportunity to reverse their positions, he would be looking. He wouldn’t make her guess. His eyes would be wide open.
“I need to get my clothes,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he just shook his head and went to the wardrobe to take out what he needed. He threw it all over one arm and carried it into the bathing room and closed the door.
“I visited Ellen’s grave this morning,” he called out.
The oddness of that struck Raine dumb.
“I wanted to pay my respects.”
She found her voice. “That was kind of you.”
“I saw your husband’s marker just where you said it would be. How did he die? You’ve never said.”
“Didn’t I? I suppose not. Uriah Burdick shot him dead.”
Kellen opened the door and came out as he was putting on a silver-threaded vest. He was wearing black woolen trousers and a shirt with suspenders. “Uriah Burdick? Did I hear you right?”
Raine raised her head above the coat collar like a turtle coming out of its shell. “Yes. Adam was playing cards with the Burdicks. Uriah accused him of cheating, which he was, and killed him for it. Adam had a death wish, Mr. Coltrane. He had a cancer inside him. He knew it before we came out here, and Dr. Kent was treating him, but neither of them held out any hope. Adam did well for a while, did most of the work here on his good days, but then the pain set in permanently and there was no help for it. He wanted to die, and I wouldn’t let him. That’s why he invited himself to play poker with the Burdicks and why he allowed himself to be caught. He was no clumsy card sharper. No one had ever called him out before. He knew what he was doing.”
“I’m sorry.”
