by Kit Morgan
He entered the hotel to find Marcus waiting in the lobby. The man followed Thaddeus up the stairs to his room in silence. It wasn’t until they were safely inside, the door locked, that he opened his mouth. “I trust you found the job done to your satisfaction?”
“Yah know Ah like things done clean,” Thaddeus said in his heavy Bayou accent. “Let’s just hope deah Mr. Brown doesn’t have too many relatives. Ah trust yah already sent in your application to this Aidan who runs The Nuptial News?”
“Yes. I specifically requested a wife from back East, preferably Massachusetts, and that I was willing to travel to fetch her if I had to. Along with notes on my impeccable background and, ah … references.”
Thaddeus chuckled. “Excellent.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but why is this Lord Brennan so adamant about finding one girl?”
“Because, deah boy, this one guhl happens to be his daughtah. Ah only work for the man and don’t ask for particulahs, so don’t pestah me for any. I’ll let you know things as Ah see fit.”
Marcus stared at him in shock. He was a handsome man, blond, blue-eyed and with a horrible gambling problem. If he didn’t need the money so bad, he might back out of this deal. “Quite the operation he has going to find her. What if he doesn’t?”
“Ah said don’t ask me questions,” Thaddeus warned.
“I was just curious. An operation of this size takes money, lots of it. Capturing and processing women in the current slave market doesn’t come cheaply.”
Thaddeus glared at him. “Yah not gettin’ paid to analyze the situation, son. Mah job is to find this guhl by any means necessary, and Ah intend to see it done, even if it is folly. Lawd Brennan pays me handsomely for the work Ah do. Who am Ah to argue? Yah shouldn’t either, for that mattuh. Especially not with me.”
Marcus shook his head. “Still seems mighty strange, all this to find one person. Why didn’t he just hire a Pinkerton?”
“Well, this way is much maw profitable,” Thaddeus hissed. “For us anyway.” He crossed the room, picked a decanter and glass up from a small table, and poured himself a drink. “I suppose I can tell yah a few things since we’ll be workin’ together. Even if he doesn’t find her, which I doubt he will, we’re gettin’ rich. The best part is, the longer it takes, the richuh we become. And son, we’re gonna be lookin’ a long time, ‘cause personally, I don’t think she even exists, I also think Lawd Brennan’s out of his head from searchin’ all these years, but yah didn’t hear that from me.”
Marcus could only stare. “I never thought I’d say this, but that’s horrible.”
Thaddeus shrugged. “I’ll tell yah what, he lost her as a baby, someone stole her away. He thought she was dead, found out othuhwise, and has been searchin’ evah since. The man’s a fool. She’s probably been dead and gone for years. Now to be in this business with me yah bettah keep that to yahself. Brennan pays well so the longer we keep him thinkin’ he has to look, the better off we’ll be.”
“You mean you’re just throwing him bits and pieces now and then to keep him satisfied? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not if we don’t get caught, and I don’t mean to. Besides, I don’t meet with him often enough for him to get too suspicious. When he sets off looking for her, he’s gone for months, and once I didn’t see him for over a year. The only contact I have then is by lettuh. Now let’s get back to work. Are yah packed?”
“Yes, I can leave at a moment’s notice.”
“Good. Is yah contact in San Francisco ready to do his paht?”
“My brother can always be counted on.”
“Excellent. Now let’s hope that this Millie Pawtuh is the type of woman we’re lookin’ for, or we’ll both have to suffah the consequences. Brennan may out of his head and gone right now, but he still wants a report, and I ain’t the only one that wuhks for him. Don’t be surprised if yah watched. Now, yah sure she fits the description – red hayuh, green eyes, the correct age? That will be enough to satisfy him. And if by some miracle, she has the birthmark his daughtah has, then, well, let’s hope we’re still in business afterwards.”
“She’s close enough to check her out. Even if this isn’t the girl you’re looking for, which, from what you just told me sounds doubtful, she’ll still bring a good price, and we’re still in business.”
“Good, on both counts, or you and yah brothuh won’t like the result. We have to be able to give him something, cause Lawd Brennan ain’t the most pleasant puhson when he’s angry. Just ask Deacon Smith, the last man who upset him. Oh, wait,” Thaddeus said with a chuckle, “yah can’t.”
Marcus, unable to help himself, had to ask. “Why? What happened to him?”
Thaddeus sneered at the younger man. “Brennan had me shoot him.”
* * *
Justin stumbled out of the bunkhouse and yawned. He hadn’t had his coffee yet, but that would have to wait while Abel made a fresh pot. Guarding the herds at night wasn’t anyone’s favorite job – it wasn’t like you could catch a wink or two out on the prairie. No, he’d had to stay alert in case anything happened. Again.
Three incidents over the last few of months had convinced Walton to post guards around the clock. They had gone in shifts at first, but the constant change of the men’s schedules had necessitated a set one. Justin had happened to draw what was, at least in the other men’s eyes, the least favorable.
But he wasn’t the only man out in the darkness. His best friend Gideon’s watch overlapped his, and they got to banter each night for a few minutes before Gideon headed in. Today he was putting into practice the advice his friend had given him: stay away from Millie Porter. Just get through the next few days. How hard could that be?
He decided not to answer that question – it would only make it worse.
He sat on the porch steps and glance around the compound. All was quiet at this time of day and he wondered what Millie … he shook his head. “Now see, there ya go again - stop thinkin’ about the woman!” he chastised himself aloud. “Stay away, Justin. Stay far away, in body and in mind …”
“Coffee’s ready!” Abel called from inside the bunkhouse.
Justin got up and went inside. “Good, I could use some.”
“You coulda got some from Miss Libby.”
“I ain’t goin’ to play with Hattie until … maybe later.”
“You won’t have time later, once you get to work. Yer gonna have one disappointed little girl.”
Justin took the cup Abel handed him, sat at the table, sipped and closed his eyes. “Good coffee.”
“Yer avoidin’ that gal, ain’t ya?”
“What if I am?”
Abel poured himself a cup, then sat with a sigh. “It’s fer the best, I suppose. Best ya go ask one of the bossmen for extra work. That way, ya won’t accidentally run into her.”
Justin stared at him a moment. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Probably because he’d still hoped to run into her, by accident. Say, if their paths just happened to cross at some point … really, Weaver? What would Pa say? “He’d probably throw me down a well.”
“What was that?” Abel asked.
Justin shook his head. “Nothin’. I was just thinkin’ ‘bout my family and what they’d tell me to do.”
“That crazy bunch? Ha! After listening to you talk about ‘em, I can only imagine!”
Justin smiled. He missed his family, missed the farm. “Yeah, my uncles would probably have a little talk with me in the barn.”
“One that’d result in a couple black eyes?”
Justin chuckled. “Most likely.”
“Ya ever think ‘bout goin’ back?” Abel asked.
“Sometimes,” he said, his laughter fading.
“Well, I’d be sure ya get all that wanderlust out of ya first. Otherwise ya go home, get a case of itchy feet and break yer poor mama’s heart when ya take off again.”
Justin thought a moment. The man had a point. “Yes, yer right. I guess it might be a whi
le before I head up Washington way.”
“Ya just keep doin’ what yer doin’. Yer good at it, and the bossmen like ya. Ya can’t ask for more’n that.”
Justin stared at him a moment. “Can’t I?”
“Ya know what I mean. Ya got a roof over yer head, food in yer belly and plenty of purty stars at night to look at. What more could a man want?”
Justin gazed into his coffee cup, an image of Millie coming to mind. “I can think of a thing or two.”
“Well, if’n ya ask me, ya ain’t ready fer it, whatever it is. Take my advice and get that cowpunchin’ spirit outta ya first before ya think ‘bout going home. Otherwise you’ll disappoint all them kinfolk of yours.”
Justin sighed. “I know.” He looked at the older man. “Yer right, as usual.”
Abel smiled. “It’s a habit of mine.”
Justin gave him a solemn nod, then took another sip of his coffee.
Nine
Millie sat next to Hattie on her bed and stared out the window at the rain. The spring storm had come out of nowhere, and she was thankful they’d made it back to the ranch before it broke. Lilly said the weather was like that in Texas, and that she often felt sorry for the men out on the prairie minding the herds. They would be cold, wet and hungry, desperately trying to stay warm.
“Justin didn’t come play with me today,” Hattie lamented. “I’m mad at him.”
Millie studied the child. Her brow was furrowed, her lip curled. “My, you’d better not let him see you with that look on your face. He might not want to play with you at all. You’re very scary-looking right now.”
Hattie gave her a huge grin. “I am?”
“Yes, I’m shivering with fright just looking at you.” She shuddered for emphasis.
Hattie scowled again. “Good. He should be scared.”
“Because he didn’t come play with you this morning?”
“Yes.”
Millie tried not to laugh. “With that face, you’ll only frighten him away, then who would play with you?”
The child gazed up at her. “You’d play with me … right?”
“If I was here,” Millie said, and swallowed the lump in her throat. As soon as Benedict and Lilly had deposited her on Libby’s doorstep after their return from Wiggieville, they’d gone to find the Daltons’ uncle Jack to make arrangements for another groom for her. It made her feel a little like a child who’d been given a sick pony only to have it die, and now her parents were out searching for another.
She, of course, was supposed to be happy she was getting another. But this wasn’t a pony, nor was the one that died. Walter Brown had been a flesh-and-blood man, and she had to know what happened. Then she had to face her parents, even if only by telegraph. She had to apologize and wish them well, even if she’d probably never see them again. Unless by some slim chance, they forgave her.
“Will you play with me now?” Hattie asked.
Millie drew in a deep breath. She had to pull herself together and prepare for whatever happened next. “Of course. What would you like to play?”
“You’re the mommy and I’m the baby.”
“But you’re not a baby, you’re a big girl,” Millie told her with a smile.
“Okay, then I’m the mommy and you’re the baby!”
Millie raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh dear. How is that going to work?”
“It’s easy,” Hattie said as she climbed to her feet on the bed and launched herself at Millie, shoving her over. “You lie here and pretend you’re sick! I’ll go get your medicine.”
“What?” Millie asked with alarm. Who knew what the child would insist she be able to shove down her throat?
“Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be right back!” Hattie said as she slid off the bed and ran from the room.
Millie lay there and chuckled. Should she be worried? Maybe Hattie was going to try to cure her ills with a peppermint stick or a cookie. But Hattie brought neither of those to the door.
“Look, Millie! Look what I found!”
Millie sat up to see Justin standing at the threshold. Hattie had a tight hold of his hand and was smiling broadly. “Hello,” she said, her voice weak. The mere sight of him made her want to melt, despite the horrors of the day.
He gave her a tentative smile. “I thought ya went into Wiggieville with Benedict and his wife.”
“We did, but we came back early because … well, never mind.”
“I … wasn’t expectin’ to see ya here. I’d better take care of my business and go.” He tipped his hat and turned.
“Wait!” she called, then snapped her mouth shut. Millie, you featherbrain, what are you doing?
“Yes, ma’am?” he said as he – reluctantly, it seemed to her – turned back to face her.
Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. “I … I heard you didn’t play with Hattie this morning.”
He absently tapped at the door-frame with the tip of his boot. “Ya heard right.”
“I hope it was nothing serious.”
His head came up and he gazed at her. “Ma’am?”
“I mean … something had to keep you away from her. She was …” Millie smiled and shrugged. “… upset with you.”
Justin looked at Hattie who was hugging his leg. “That true, peanut? Ya were mad at me for not showin’ up this mornin’?”
Hattie looked up at him and remembered to put her scowl back on. “Uh-huh.”
“Ya ain’t mad at me no more, are ya?”
“A little.”
“Well,” he said with an exaggerated swipe of his brow, “I guess we’d better do somethin’ about that. What say we go find your mama?”
“No, not her. She won’t play with us. She’s too busy.”
“I mean find her so I can get back to work,” he explained.
Hattie’s lower lip began to tremble as her expression shifted to a pout.
“None of that now, ya hear?” he told the child, then mussed her hair. “I got me some cows to tend to and ya know it. I just came by to say I was sorry I wasn’t here this mornin’.”
“Oh,” Hattie said and let go of his leg. “You mean you’re not gonna play with me?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She glared at him, then at Millie. “Bad baby! No medicine for you!” She stomped off toward the kitchen.
“What was that about?” he asked, perplexed.
Millie covered her mouth with one hand and tried not to laugh. “We were pretending earlier.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I was her sick baby and she had just gone to get me some, ah … medicine.”
“Oh. She didn’t give ya any, did she?”
Millie got off the bed. “No, why?”
“Thank the Lord for small favors. Yer lucky she didn’t make ya eat a bug.”
“A bug?!” Millie exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh no!”
“Oh yeah. She may look like an angel, but she’s as mischievous as any Weaver.”
“Weaver? You mean your family?”
“Yeah, and Hattie could pass for bein’ a Weaver. We’re known for bein’ … well, fun-lovin’. Ya might even say we got a long-standing reputation to uphold.”
Millie laughed, the heaviness of the day lifting from her shoulders the longer she was with him. “Just how ‘fun-loving’ are we talking?”
“More than you can imagine, I bet.”
“That much?” she asked, her face alight with amusement. “You must be quite the bunch.”
“We’ve heard ourselves called that – amongst other things,” he said sheepishly.
She tried vainly to stifle her laughter.
“Nah, go ahead, laugh it up. Ya might think it funny now, but if you’re ever up Washington way and happen upon our farm, you’ll see what I mean. We look like normal folk, even talk like ‘em. But we think different.”
“How so?”
He gave her a devilish grin and was about to answer when the front door opened and Libby came int
o the house. Millie swore Justin breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she was keeping him from his work. “I think maybe you’d better get going. Hattie will be jealous of you spending all this time talking to me.”
He didn’t argue with her and tipped his hat. “Ma’am.” He turned on his heel, nodded to Libby and left the house.
Libby went straight to Millie. “What was that about? Didn’t he play with Hattie?”
“Was he supposed to?”
Libby shrugged as she looked at the door. “He said he was busy this morning, but he would come by …” She turned to Millie. “I don’t know, though. I’ve never seen him hightail it out of here that quickly.”
“He must have other work to do,” Millie suggested.
“He must,” Libby agreed, though she didn’t sound like she believed it. She glanced around the kitchen. “Well, how’d you like a bread-baking lesson?”
Millie smiled. “I’d love it.” And maybe if she worked hard enough, she could get Justin’s gentle hazel eye out of her head. His handsome if injured face, his broad chest, his … oh, why couldn’t he have been her intended?
Millie froze. Wait a minute … why couldn’t he? Because he has no interest in you, you dolt, her common sense told her. She sighed and, without waiting for Libby, headed for the kitchen. “Let’s get started. This might take a while.” With any luck, it would take up the rest of the day – and all her attention.
* * *
Justin mounted up and headed out. He didn’t care if it was two hours early, he needed to get away from the ranch. More importantly, he needed to get away from Millie. He should’ve run at the first sight of her. That Libby was outside on the porch constituted enough warning to make him, but no. One look, and he could barely get his feet to move. All he could manage was to stand there and tap his boot a few times.
What if Nate had walked in, or one of the other bosses? He’d been warned, after all. But what good did it do? He was just as attracted to the woman as before, maybe even more so. All the advice from Abel and Gideon had flown out the window at the sight of her. His own resolve to stay away from her had vanished into thin air.
