"Good, that's settled then." Katlin linked her arm through his. "We'd better get going. I have to find a dress suitable for a wedding, and, while were at it, we'll pick out a surprise to send to your Kate and to your son."
They had just stepped from the saloon onto the sidewalk when a shot echoed in the distance, reminding them both of the situation never far from their minds. Katlin's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach until a voice whispered inside her head.
"Don't worry, Little One. He's out of harms way for now."
With a noticeable sigh of relief, Katlin looked up to Ben, "Ben, about what we talked about earlier. Have you . . . ?"
Knowing what she was thinking, Ben answered before she finished her question. "I haven't had a chance to talk to anyone yet, but we need to put off the shopping for a little while. There is someone we need to talk to before the next stage coach leaves town."
Ben led Katlin to a small, rundown boarding house on a side street. They walked into the trash littered alley where Ben proceeded to rap quietly on a door. When there was no response, he knocked again. "Jenny, it's Ben. Open up. I have to talk to you."
The door opened barely a crack, as if the person inside was checking to make sure it was actually Ben in the alley before she opened it wide enough to allow them to step inside. At a glance, Katlin took in the tiny room furnished only by a wash stand with an enamel water pitcher and wash bowl, a small dresser, and a bed that was more the size of a cot. Despite the faded and peeling wall paper in a tea rose print, the faint glow cast from the oil lamp on the dresser showed the room to be clean and neat as a pin. On the bed Katlin noted the carpetbag the young woman was clearly in the process of packing when they arrived.
Katlin's eyes went toward the young woman who had stepped behind Ben in an attempt to hide herself from view. Ben turned, took her by the hand, and began speaking in gentle tones.
"Jenny, darlin', it's all right. You know I wouldn't bring anyone here who might cause you trouble. We have a real problem, and I think you can help us."
"I can't help anyone. Please, Ben. I just want to go." Ben's broad back concealed the woman from view, and her whispered plea was barely audible to Katlin's ears.
"I know you do. And I promise that I will personally see you on to the stage today as planned. But first, I need you to tell us exactly what happened and who was responsible."
Katlin heard an in drawn breath and a panic stricken, "I can't. No, Ben. Please don't ask me to tell you. I can't."
Ben's shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh as he pulled the woman into his arms. "It's all right," he soothed softly. "I know what I'm asking is hard, and you're frightened. I swear, Jenny, I won't let anyone hurt you again. But, darlin', I really need you to talk to us. The life of a very good friend of mine could depend on what you tell us."
Katlin waited with bated breath. It was barely a matter of seconds though it felt like hours before the woman muttered something Katlin was unable to hear.
"That's my girl," Ben praised before he stepped aside, giving Katlin her first good look at the woman in question. Katlin was aghast to realize the woman was little more than a child. From the look of her, a child who had been through a traumatic ordeal. Her right eye was swollen as well as her left cheek, vivid with purple and yellow, indicating the bruising was just beginning to fade. At the left side of her trembling lip, an ugly scab had formed. Even the injuries didn't disguise the fact that the girl was well on her way to being a beauty, with long blonde hair held to the nape of her neck with a ribbon. and a petite little body which was just beginning to develop into what would one day be a gorgeous figure. Unfortunately, the same budding potential Katlin had noticed was obvious enough to earn her the attention of some sicko bastard.
"Jenny, this is my niece," Ben introduced. Katlin could tell he was choosing his words carefully so as not to spook the poor girl who looked ready to bolt.
"Uncle Ben calls me Katie," Katlin interrupted Ben's introduction. "I know we're asking a lot from you, and your courage means a lot to me. You see, the friend Ben mentioned is someone I love very much." As Katlin watched, Jenny swallowed and squared her fragile shoulders, reminding her of another girl, in another time. The sensation of guilt Katlin felt over the part she had played in Sharon Hall being victimized a second time by an imperfect justice system still had the ability to twist her insides into painful knots. But this was different. She wasn't asking young Jenny to face her assailant in a court of law. They would see that she was moved safely out of harms way before all hell broke lose.
"How can knowing what happened to me help him?" Jenny asked uncertainly.
"We don't know that for sure. But I do know talking to another woman about what happened will help you." Katlin paused, allowing her words to sink in before she continued. Even though every instinct urged Katlin to pull the girl into her arms and let her have a good cry, too much experience in this type of situation cautioned otherwise. "You don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but you trust Ben, don't you? You know that underneath his fierce reputation, he's just a big teddy bear who would never do anything to hurt you."
Jenny looked up at Ben with such trusting adoration Katlin knew she had accomplished what she had set out to do. Without waiting for a response, Katlin went to the bed, placed the carpetbag on the floor, then sat down and patted the bed beside her. "Come sit down, and we'll just talk. I think you'll find it easier than you thought it would be."
"I don't know if I can do this," Jenny whispered. She closed her eyes and looked down at the floor without moving. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she added, "I'm so ashamed." Katlin saw Ben's reaction, and, just before he reached to pull the girl into his arms to comfort her, Katlin caught his eye. With a barely discernible shake of Katlin's head, he backed off.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Jenny," Katlin insisted. "You did nothing wrong. Wrong was done to you." The tension in Jenny's small body was evident in the small, hesitant steps she took toward the bed. She gingerly sat on the bed then cast an uneasy glance toward Ben.
Recognizing the signs, Katlin asked, "Would it be easier if Ben waited outside while we talk?" In her time, it had never failed to infuriate Katlin when dispatch was insensitive enough to send male officers out on a rape call without arranging for a woman to be present. How in the name of God did anyone expect a woman who had just been raped to confide all the intimate details of the assault to a man?
Jenny looked down at the floor and shook her head, yes, even as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Ben."
"It's all right, darlin'. I understand," Ben agreed before turning to open the door. Without turning around, he added, "I'll be right outside the door. If you need me, just call." With his parting words, he stepped out the door, closing it behind him.
Ben stepped into the alley and expelled a sigh of relief at being able to leave Jenny in Katlin's clearly capable hands. He was awed by how smoothly Katlin handled the situation when she had no idea what she was walking into. Responding as if she dealt with girls like Jenny on a daily basis, Katlin seemed to know exactly what to do and what to say. Even if Katlin learned nothing useful, he was glad he brought her here. If anyone could help Jenny deal with what happened to her, Ben suspected it would be his Katie. Once again he found himself thanking the fates which had brought her to this place and time.
Katlin took Jenny's trembling hands into hers and smiled encouragingly. "We'll go slow and easy. Just take your time, Jenny. I won't push you. Okay?"
"Okay," Jenny responded, then took a deep breath, indicating her resolve to go through with it.
"Jenny, I have to know. Was Rick Westfield the man who did this to you?" That was the only question Katlin needed to ask. Jenny's already pale complexion went ashen. She broke down and began to sob. Katlin gathered her shaking body into her arms and gently rocked her while she cried brokenly. "It's okay, honey, just cry it all out. I'll get him. He'll never do this to anyone else, I promise you."
Swallowi
ng back her own tears, Katlin remembered how she had held Sharon in much the same manner. She had made the same promise then. It had been a promise she hadn't been able to keep. Steeling her own resolve, she swore this time she wouldn't fail.
After Jenny cried herself out, it didn't take Katlin long to learn Jenny's story.
About a six months ago, a gang of renegade confederate soldiers had raided her family's farm located a few miles outside of Abilene. Jenny and her mother had been barricaded into the cabin while her father and two older brothers attempted to fight the men off. They were so outnumbered they didn't have a chance. Just before the gang burst through the door, Jenny's mother pushed her into the root cellar under a trap door in the floor, instructing her not to make a sound and not to come out, no matter what she heard. There she had huddled, helpless to do anything while her mother screamed and cried as the men took turns raping her. She'd been forced to listen to their laughter and crude taunts. She listened while they raided her home stealing anything of value and all the food they could find.
Jenny didn't know how long she had remained huddled there inside the root cellar, riddled with guilt that she had nothing to try to help her mother. But her mother had made her promise to do nothing, and Jenny couldn't bring herself to break the last promise she would ever make to her mother. A neighbor found her the next day as she was attempting to dig graves for her family.
Jenny wanted to stay in her home. She had no family left, no place else to go. There was the food left in the root cellar the renegades hadn't found, but she was realistic enough to know she couldn't last long. Apparently, word about her plight had spread around town because a few days later a woman named Randi had ridden out to the farm. She had offered Jenny room and board in her house in exchange for helping with the cleaning and cooking. Having no other option open to her, Jenny had packed her few remaining belongings into a carpet bag and rode away from her home in Randi's fancy carriage.
Jenny immediately recognized exactly what kind of house Randi owned. It was the nicest house in Fisher's Addition, but it was still a whore house. By that time, she didn't have the energy nor the heart to protest. And it hadn't really been so bad. Randi treated her kindly. The other girls treated her like a little sister, and her duties were surprisingly light. Even though she suspected what went on at night, Jenny made a point to stay in her little room at the back of the house, careful not to draw attention to herself. Everything seemed to be going fine until one night last week when Randi knocked on her door and asked her to take a bottle of whiskey up to one of the rooms. Jenny had no way of knowing Randi had offered up her virginity to the highest bidder and the winner happened to be . . . Rick Westfield.
It wasn't enough for Westfield to take the terrified girl's virginity, he was determined to get his money's worth. He forced on her every deviant act he was capable of concocting in his warped mind.
After Westfield had slipped into an alcohol induced stupor, the traumatized girl had sneaked from the room and out of the house without anyone seeing her. She remembered very little after that until Ben found her in the alley behind the Bull's Head saloon. Jenny had only vague memories of the next few days, during which she would wake to find Ben in a chair beside her bed taking care of her, gently talking her back to sleep when she woke up fighting against a nightmare. She thought there had been a doctor, but it was so much like a dream Jenny couldn't be sure. Then one day she woke up, and she could no longer sleep away the memories. Ben had been there, gentle and caring, and they had talked. Knowing she was terrified of being found, Ben tried to get her to tell him who had hurt her. Jenny had become so hysterical he backed off, promising to ask her nothing she didn't want to tell him.
Knowing it was only a matter of time before her presence in the Bull's Head would be discovered, Ben had hidden her away in the small boarding house. He spent as much time with her as he was able, seeing that she ate, and in his own way trying to help her heal emotionally. Ben had even arranged for Jenny to go back east to stay with his sister. The plan was to slip her out of town and meet up with the stage on the trail, where there was little likelihood of anyone recognizing her.
By the time Jenny finished her story, she was emotionally spent. Katlin pushed her gently down on the bed, assuring her that she and Ben would come for her when it was time to leave to catch the stage. Jenny's last words before she slipped into an exhausted sleep was that she considered her mother to be the lucky one. At least she hadn't been forced to live with the memory of what had been done to her.
Katlin slipped out the door and closed it behind her, taking deep calming breaths in an attempt to control a temper which was volatile at the best of times. It had been a lifetime battle, and, at the moment, she was in very real danger of losing the war. She knew she had to get hold of herself and keep her wits about her if she was to succeed in bringing Westfield down. There were still too many unanswered questions regarding the price on Mitch's head. There was no longer any question in her mind as to who, what she needed to find out was why.
"It was Westfield, wasn't it?" Ben asked. The expression on Katlin's face, or rather the lack thereof, was enough to make Ben's blood run cold. "The son of a bitch is a dead man," he swore then balled his hand into a fist and swung toward the wall, pulling back the instant before he connected. He was afraid the sound would frighten Jenny. "Damn."
"You will do nothing, Ben," Katlin demanded with quiet but deliberate emphasis.
"Right now, all we have are suspicions and Jenny's story. A girl we need to get out of harm's way."
"But . . . ."
Katlin put a reassuring hand on Ben's arm and shook her head to still his argument. "No buts, Ben. If you go gunning for Westfield before we have something concrete to back us up, Hickok won't rest until he has a noose around your neck." Katlin didn't even want to imagine the ramifications Ben's early death might have on history, his family's destiny, on her own Uncle Ben's life. "We'll get him, but we have to think things through, weigh our options, then react smart not emotionally."
"I know you're right but damn it," Ben agreed reluctantly. "When I think of what he did to young Jenny."
"That is all we know for certain he is guilty of," Katlin reminded him. "And while I would dearly love to personally castrate the bastard, it isn't enough to hang him."
Katlin knew Ben wanted to go after Westfield himself and stop him before he could do more damage. It's the type of justice common to this time and place . . . the type of justice men like Ben Thompson lived by. And while Katlin believed it was nothing less than Rick Westfield deserved, she also knew there was no quick fix for the situation. There were too many unanswered questions. Ben wouldn't like it, but, she knew for her sake and Mitch's, Ben would back off and let her deal with Rick Westfield in her own way.
"So, what do we do next?" Ben asked.
"We go shopping for a wedding dress. We put Jenny on the noon stage. And then I have to get ready for supper at the Westfield ranch."
Ben took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, concern etched into his handsome features. AI don't like the idea of you going out to that ranch."
"I can't say I'm looking forward to it myself," Katlin admitted. "But it's something I have to do. It's my best opportunity to get the answers I'm looking for."
"They want Mitch dead, and you got in their way. Westfield might consider having both of you at the ranch is his best chance to tie up loose ends," Ben pointed out needlessly.
"I considered that possibility, but I don't think Westfield would take the risk of casting suspicion in their direction. Especially with you knowing where we're going. They're too clever for that."
"You might be right," Ben conceded reluctantly, Abut I still don't like it."
"No, I don't expect you do. Nevertheless, I am going."
Ben opened his mouth to respond, then, noting the absolute determination glittering in her eyes, he bit his words back. He recognized that to protest further would be an exercise in futility.
"Does that tactic work on my great, great, grandson?" Ben asked with a sigh of acceptance.
"Usually," Katlin confirmed with a grin.
"Then I guess being a sucker for stubborn red-heads must run in the family."
"Among other things." Katlin looped her arm through Ben's, and they began walking back toward Texas Street. "So tell me, Ben. How do you feel about becoming the marshal of Austin Texas?"
Caught off guard by her surprising question, Ben halted in his tracks and looked down at her. "A marshal? Me?" Ben had done many things in his lifetime, but working on the side of law and order?
"You'll run for the position in 1879 and be defeated, but you'll be elected the next term. You'll do quite well. In fact, while you are the marshal, Austin will have the lowest crime rate in Texas."
"Hummm . . . marshal of Austin?" Ben murmured more to himself than to Katlin. It was an option he'd never even considered. AI think I can live with that," Ben said, warming to the idea.
"I thought you might," Katlin said with a smile. Their eyes met, and her smile faded to be replaced by a tight lipped expression. She remembered something else. A memory not nearly so pleasant.
"What is it , Katie?" Ben prodded.
Katlin knew she shouldn't say anything. She'd probably said too much already . . . But this was Ben. If she just warned him, omitting date and details, what harm could it do? She did know she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt if she didn't at least do that much.
"Ben," Katlin began hesitantly, expecting a bolt of lightning to strike her down before she finished. "There is a Vaudeville, Variety Theater in San Antonio."
"I know the place. I've been there."
"Don't go back."
Chapter Nine
The Bond Unbroken Page 17
