Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico

by Lena Nelson Dooley

  Every time she gazed around the area, she found something new and amazing, like the semi-arid area that held an abundance of flora and fauna. Her eyes traveled to the scrubbier trees and bushes in widely scattered clumps, surrounded by sand, rocks, and sparse grass. She smiled at the occasional wildflowers scattered here and there that managed to show off their magnificent colors. A few tall fir trees were a lovely addition to the landscape.

  A little ways down the hill, she spied a rabbit of some kind hopping from a cluster of grass to one quite a distance away. So much like her. She’d managed to exchange one place for another, and she prayed this move would prove to be a good one for all of them.

  Skittering in the sand brought her eyes back to the ground around the house. A lizard climbed up the back wall, then stood completely still, as if waiting for something. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and the creature darted up and over the top of the wall onto the flat roof. This was a barely tamed land, but she felt at home here—almost as much as she had in Boston.

  Off in the distance, a lone rider was headed toward town. She wondered how many other people lived within riding distance. She felt sure not all the people who attended church last Sunday lived in the houses scattered through Golden. And, probably, some of the homeowners went to the Catholic church.

  She headed into the house to make Pearl a bottle. Playing with Philip always tired the baby enough that she took a good nap. Maddy looked forward to her time with Philip when they could sit and visit without interruption.

  As Jeremiah approached Golden, he noticed Madeline standing outside the back of Philip’s house. She hadn’t been there any of the times he’d visited Philip, but he’d seen signs of her work. Philip had never kept his house so clean. And, according to the old miner’s claims, she and her friends kept him well fed. That relieved Jeremiah from much of his worry about Philip’s physical needs, but he worried what other damage they were doing to him emotionally and financially.

  He stopped Lightning outside the sheriff’s office in a cloud of dust and tied him to the hitching rail. The battered wooden door stood open, so he strode into the cool interior.

  Bill dropped his boots from resting on the edge of the scarred desk and straightened up in his chair. “Jeremiah, what’re you doing in town this early in the day?” He slowly rose to his feet and held out his hand.

  Jeremiah shook it. “Just wanted to see if you’d heard anything from your friend in Boston. I’m really anxious to know about those people…especially the Mercer woman.”

  The sheriff came around the desk and leaned back against it, crossing his ankles. “I’ve been keeping an eye on ’em, and I have to tell you, I haven’t seen anything out of line. Your assumptions are most likely wrong.”

  Jeremiah rubbed the back of his neck where the muscles bunched and ached. “I hope, for Philip’s sake, I’m wrong. He’s really taken with that baby. He talks about her all the time when I’m there.” Now the ache in his forehead rivaled the one in his neck, so he rubbed the weathered ridges there. “I’m really uncomfortable around that woman.”

  A smile spread across his friend’s face. Almost a smirk. “Probably doesn’t have anything to do with her past.” The laugh that burst from him almost blistered Jeremiah.

  “This is no laughing matter.” He turned to exit, but Hiram filled the doorway.

  “Hey, Sheriff. Just got back from Los Cerillos with the mail. Got a telegram for you.” He plopped it down on the desk. “Gotta go on over to the Skinners’.”

  Thank goodness the man didn’t stay. Jeremiah stared at the envelope as if it might be a rattlesnake waiting to strike. Hopefully the message was from the police in Boston. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door facing, waiting for Bill to open the thing.

  The sheriff took his time, turning the envelope every which way before tearing into it. “Well, what d’ you know? Sheldon says he’s just received a wanted poster naming Madeline Mercer. Something about her stealing jewelry, including an heirloom cameo. Said he’d mail me a copy of the handbill.”

  Jeremiah knew what a cameo was. His mother had one. The only piece of genuine jewelry she owned. For a moment he wondered whatever happened to his mother’s. Probably sold to buy whiskey for his father and uncle. Everything of value vanished that way.

  He whooshed out his breath. “I told you something wasn’t right about that woman. You gonna go arrest her?”

  “Now wait just a minute. Might not be the same woman. Let’s wait for the wanted poster and see the picture and description. I’m not gonna do anything until it arrives. They’re not going anywhere. Besides, I haven’t seen her wear any jewelry except those earbobs on Sunday.”

  Jeremiah swallowed all the words he wanted to say and almost choked on them. Given the stubborn tilt to Bill’s chin, saying them wouldn’t do any good. He’d just have to wait for that mail to come, but he’d keep a closer eye on her himself. Wouldn’t do to let her get away if she were a criminal. ’Course if she were, it’d break Philip’s heart.

  But some things couldn’t be helped.

  Another Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. Maddy could hear some kind of bird greeting the sun, and a cool breeze blew across the room. She pulled back the curtain and looked out. A small black bird, with a yellow head and breast and a white slash on its wing, sat on a tree branch not far away. With its head thrown back and its throat vibrating, it had to be the one doing the singing. The sound was different from any bird she’d heard back in Boston. For a moment, she was surprised she hadn’t thought of Boston as home instead of naming the town. Did that have some deeper meaning?

  Maddy had even gotten so used to the thumping of the stamping machines in Golden that she hardly ever noticed the noise. Of course, today those machines were shut down.

  She knew that, later in the day, the temperature would rise to almost unbearable heights, so she studied the clothes she had hanging in the wardrobe. She’d left her heavier clothing packed in a trunk and only took out the lighter dresses she’d purchased in Santa Fe. After she helped serve breakfast to the guests in the hotel, she’d come back upstairs to get ready for the service. She wanted to get as much done as she could before Pearl awakened.

  She laid out a silk dress in a lovely shade of peach. Tiny brown horn buttons trailed from the slightly scooped front neckline to the hem, and a brown grosgrain ribbon defined the slim waist. Her mother’s cameo would look good with this dress. She lifted the satin drawstring bag that held all her mother’s jewels she’d hidden deep within one trunk, tucked under other clothing. She spread them on the top of the bureau, each item filling her with memories of times when Mother wore a particular piece. Mother had loved pretty jewelry. Father had given her many of the pieces, but some, including the cameo, had belonged to Maddy’s grandmother. Carved from a rusty brown soapstone, the delicate face of a woman looked much like the portrait of Maddy’s grandmother hanging in the parlor in Boston.

  She chose a grosgrain ribbon the same shade as the buttons and laid it beside the brooch. Then she added her grandmother’s pearl drop earrings. If she wore both of these, she’d feel a connection to her past as well as her present.

  After deciding to attend church with Philip the next morning, Jeremiah had a terrible day. When he arrived home from Golden, his foreman told him they’d found ten butchered cows in the south pasture. He rode out to see if there were any clues to who committed the crime, but when they reached the hill where they’d been grazing, they found nothing except the hides, hooves, and some of the bones with bits of fresh meat attached. Vultures circled overhead. Plenty of footprints and hoofprints on top of each other beat down a large area of the scrubby grass, but they led off in several different directions, most of the pathways strewn with stones. He sent Ramirez to get the sheriff but didn’t figure they’d be able to catch the culprits. Since the cattle were slaughtered instead of herded off the land, could be some people that were just hungry. If they’d have come up to the ranch house, h
e’d have given them food. But it really galled him that they stole the meat and left all this mess.

  He told Martin to bury the remains after the sheriff saw them. Didn’t want those vultures hanging around.

  While riding back to the ranch house, he was stopped by his wrangler, Manny. Two of Jeremiah’s prize mares were foaling, and both of them were having a hard time. First-time mothers often did. So he and Manny stayed with the horses until well past three in the morning, when both foals were finally delivered alive and well. He left Manny to take care of the mothers and babies and went to the house to clean up before falling across the bed for some much-needed shut-eye.

  The sunlight streaming in through a hole in the tattered curtains of his bedroom woke him too soon. If the sun was high enough for the light to hit him in the face, T-Bone hadn’t awakened him when he should have.

  Jeremiah jumped up and threw on some of his best clothes, thankful he’d bathed last night. He raked his fingertips down the side of his jaw, feeling the prickly whiskers. He’d just have to go without shaving anyway. No time.

  Didn’t have time to tell T-Bone what he thought about the old man ignoring his orders, but he did grab a cup of coffee and gulp it down, searing his mouth and throat on the way. One of the things he liked about T-Bone was that he kept the coffee hot, but today he’d have liked it a little cooler.

  Manny had Lightning saddled when Jeremiah arrived at the barn. He glanced around the cavernous building, one of the best in the area. In a lot better condition than his house. While he was at church today, Jeremiah’d talk to Pastor Oldman to see if the man had time to do some carpentry work for him.

  He jumped into the saddle and gave Lightning his head as they flew across the miles toward Golden. Philip would be antsy, waiting for him so long.

  After leaving Lightning in the livery stable, he jumped onto the seat of the wagon Swede had waiting for him and drove up the main street toward Philip’s house. As he expected, the old man sat in the rocker on the front porch. He stood as Jeremiah pulled the wagon to a stop.

  “Hey, Jerry. Yer mighty dressed up today.” Philip hobbled toward the steps. “Ya goin’ somewheres special?”

  He’d known he’d face this kind of question when he arrived, but he hadn’t had time to think about a quick answer. Maybe the truth. “Thought I’d stay for the service with you.”

  He didn’t even glance up. He didn’t want to see the surprise or smug smile, whichever Philip used. Besides, he wasn’t going to participate, just keep his eyes on the Mercer woman. He climbed out of the wagon and went to help Philip down the steps.

  “Glad ya came to yer senses.”

  “Don’t go making a big deal out of it. Just want to check it out.”

  They carefully took the steps, one at a time, then he helped Philip over the wagon wheel.

  Philip settled on the bench seat. “Sure a pretty mornin’, ain’t it?”

  The change of subject suited Jeremiah fine. They filled the short trip down to the hotel with inconsequential spurts of conversation.

  Jeremiah heaved a sigh of relief when they pulled up in front. He’d noticed the music halfway down the mountain. And it wasn’t the draggy, off-key singing he’d heard in church when he attended before his mother died. When he and Philip slipped into the last row of seats, no one noticed, except the sheriff in the next chair. Philip dropped into his chair and added his thready voice to the song. Even Bill belted out the words…in tune.

  Jeremiah glanced toward the front. A young Mexican man sat on a tall stool playing a strange-looking guitar. Really different from the one Martin played out in the bunkhouse some nights. Besides that, Jeremiah thought all the Mexicans were Catholics. Big surprise to see one in this church. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a Catholic service, since they had a church building on the other side of town.

  Madeline Mercer sat straight in front of him on the first row. Her shiny hair was piled on top of her head in a mass of curls, revealing her slender neck. Some sort of ribbon drew his attention to the smooth skin. A few stray curls fell across the band, swaying as she moved in time with the music. She reached a delicate hand back and lifted the ringlets, tucking them into the others. The baby peeked over her other shoulder.

  He’d never seen her in a dress with a lowered neckline. The beginning slopes of her shoulders intrigued him, and his gut tightened. He was in church, for pity’s sake. He wasn’t interested in her, just keeping an eye out. Wish I knew the words to this song. It’d take my mind off that woman.

  When they finished singing, everyone sat down, and Sam Old-man took the Mexican’s place on the stool. He started talking to the people in a strong but gentle voice. After opening his Bible, he read something about not judging other people. Then he began to explain what it meant—in calm and reasonable tones. After a few minutes, Jeremiah wondered if the sheriff had told him what they’d been discussing because he talked about not judging people without knowing all the details of any situation. ’Course the sheriff hadn’t even known Jeremiah was coming to church. He’d never come before, and he’d only decided after he’d left the sheriff’s office yesterday. Must be another reason for the man to preach on the subject.

  Off and on throughout the sermon, Jeremiah’s eyes kept straying to the woman in the pinkish dress. He memorized everything he could see. He knew that later he might regret his scrutiny of Miss Mercer. She’d invaded his thoughts enough already. For some reason, he felt drawn to her, even though he couldn’t trust her any farther than he could throw Lightning.

  Reverend Oldman didn’t belabor anything he talked about. He merely explained enough so the listeners could understand and moved on. No long, drawn-out sermon filled with hellfire and damnation like his mother’s pastor had pounded into the pulpit. As soon as he was finished, Sam invited everyone to join them for a fellowship meal. Evidently the women fixed dinner every Sunday for those attending church. Wouldn’t hurt to enjoy some of the food if the smells coming from the kitchen were any indication of the taste.

  After the final prayer, Bill turned to shake his hand. “Sorry I couldn’t find out anything about who slaughtered your cattle. But we’ll continue to investigate.”

  “Thanks. Do you stay and eat with them?” Jeremiah tilted his head toward the crowd.

  The sheriff nodded. “We all do. Some really good cooks in this congregation.”

  “I’m sure Philip will want to anyway, so I might as well stay too.”

  “All the men help move the chairs and tables back in place.” Bill went over to Philip and helped the older man up, then moved his chair so Philip could sit down out of the way of those men who were working.

  When Jeremiah turned around, Madeline Mercer headed toward Philip. She deposited the baby in his arms. Philip beamed and cradled her against his chest, making nonsensical sounds to her. Something strange thumped in Jeremiah’s chest, making him uncomfortable in an entirely different way than before.

  The Mercer woman turned back toward the kitchen. Without the baby in her arms, his gaze was drawn to the piece of jewelry fastened to the ribbon around her neck. Looked a lot like the cameo his mother always wore to church.

  He’d have to get Bill alone and call his attention to the cameo. Pretty good proof that she was the criminal he’d thought she was all along. For some reason, that thought brought a sour taste to his mouth, ruining his appetite.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Even though they were already singing, Maddy sensed when Jeremiah brought Philip to church. The air became more alive. Instead of waiting by the door, he followed the older man into the dining room…and he didn’t leave. She was tempted to turn around and see what was going on, but she didn’t. All through the service, the skin on her back tingled. Was he looking at her? Had he noticed her sitting in front of him?

  With him there, the room that had been plenty large for the group gathered now had a crowded feeling to it. The front door and back door, as well as the windows, were open, letting in the gentle breeze, bu
t all the air felt steamy. Hard to breathe.

  She made herself concentrate, or she would have missed most of Pastor Oldman’s sermon. And she needed to hear it. At the same time, she hoped the man behind her was listening as closely as she was. Hadn’t he been judging her without knowing all the true details about what brought her to Golden?

  Maddy didn’t want to tell him what had happened in Boston. He’d probably turn the situation around and make it her fault. She shouldn’t care what he thought about her. She really shouldn’t. But every word he’d said to Philip that day still rankled. Chafed her like corset stays cinched too tight.

  Pearl must have sensed her discomfort, because she didn’t settle down and sleep during the sermon as she had last Sunday. Instead, she wiggled and squirmed. Maddy held her against her shoulder, and Pearl kept her head up, bobbing it occasionally as she peeked toward the back of the room. She was probably looking at Philip. At the end of the final prayer, her baby started babbling. The same coos she used with Philip, so Maddy took her to the dear old man. He held out his arms to welcome her.

  When Maddy straightened, she came face to face with Jeremiah. Close enough that she could see each whisker dusting his cheeks. Catch the unique masculine fragrance that surrounded the man.

  A slow smile spread across his full lips, curling something buried inside her. She took a deep breath. He stared at her, a thundercloud descending on his expression as his eyes fastened just below her chin.

  She lifted her hand to her neckline. Surely it wasn’t too low. Her fingers encountered the brooch. Maybe he was looking at her grandmother’s cameo, but why would that make him angry?

  “Miss Mercer.” His voice sounded sharp as a razor. He quickly turned away and headed toward the sheriff.