THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy

by Susan Page Davis

  She’d surprised herself when she shed a few tears for David into her pillow. It would have been grand to marry such a suave, handsome, wealthy man. Alas, that was not to be. From his room, she’d lifted his last gifts to her—a lovely little carved box containing a pair of onyx cuff links, a small Bible, and two five-dollar bills. She’d burned the envelope the money came in and the accompanying note: “I’ll be checking out early. This should cover my bill. David Stone, #304.”

  Now wasn’t that convenient of him to leave that before stepping out last evening? One would almost think he’d had a premonition that he might not return.

  Poor David! She was still furious with Peterson and a little bit frightened, but she would never let him see that. In fact, she planned to be miles from Scottsburg before that shifty character was even out of bed. Too bad. She’d enjoyed this hotel. It was nicer than she’d expected in this rough river town, and so far she hadn’t paid a cent. Two of her dinners went on David’s bill, and thanks to him and Peterson, she had plenty to pay for her accommodations. She briefly considered skipping out without paying at all, but decided against that. She’d run up quite a bill, and it might be enough to make the manager set the constable on her. Of course, the constable would have his hands full with the disappearance of the hotel’s most affluent guest….

  Her thoughts kept coming back to that. The shot in the moonlight, and David pitching over the edge of the dock into the river. Peterson’s harsh words, and her aching emptiness. She was alone now, as she had been most of her life. It was up to her to distance herself from Peterson, who was obviously a very dangerous man.

  A fleeting thought crossed her mind of Sam—where had he wound up? Was he still up in the hills, chasing Anne Stone and her stuffy bodyguard? She’d decided that’s what Dan Adams was. Anne didn’t give him enough encouragement to make him a lover or even a sweetheart. That girl had no passion. Millie could teach her a thing or two under different circumstances.

  She sighed and settled her new hat on her upswept hair. Scottsburg needed a decent milliner, but this would suffice for now. When she got to San Francisco again, she’d buy a proper hat.

  The hotel’s breakfast was classier than what she’d gotten at the café with Peterson, though it cost nearly three times as much. Since she was paying this morning, she may as well stay here and enjoy it—and avoid the possibility of seeing Peterson again. That cook they had out back knew what he was doing. She’d take a leisurely breakfast, then pack her things in the new leather traveling bag she’d purchased, pay her bill like a decent lady, and collect her mount from the stable.

  She opened the little carved box and gazed at the cuff links. Why had she taken them? She supposed she could sell them for a dollar or two in a pinch, but that wasn’t the reason. David had worn them their first evening together. When did she get sentimental? That attitude could get her in trouble. He’d planned to check out this morning. Did he intend to tell her last night, or would he have simply left without saying good-bye? She closed the box and tucked it into the drawer with her fine new underthings and extra gloves.

  The leather-covered book was smaller than any Bible she’d seen before. Compact, for him to carry about when he traveled, she supposed. She hadn’t thought too much about him being a godly man, but he had quoted something she was fairly certain came from the Bible as they walked toward the river last night—something about the heavens and God’s glory. Mostly he seemed to favor Shakespeare and Edmund Burke for his quotations, but in any case, he was quite the scholar. The books in his farmhouse had told her that, and she’d expected him to be a little owlish, but he’d turned out to be far more dashing than she’d imagined.

  Yes, he would have made a good husband. She’d never have had to worry about where the money for the tax bill would come from or struggle for the perfect word on any occasion. She could have tapped David for either at a moment’s notice. She sighed and put the Bible in with the cuff link box.

  When she opened her door, she took the precaution of looking down the hall first and waiting until the two men headed for the stairs had gone down. She didn’t want to speak to any more people than necessary this morning. As she crossed the landing to the head of the stairs, she glanced up toward the third story. David’s empty suite lay up there. Such a pity—she’d really liked him. But it was time to move on. She would have breakfast and then make one last purchase before leaving Scottsburg. With Peterson at large, she’d feel safer carrying a gun. A small lady’s weapon, of course. She’d seen one in a shop yesterday and wished she’d bought it then.

  She went down the stairs, avoided the desk clerk’s gaze, and entered the dining room, knowing every eye was upon her. More than a dozen men were having their breakfast, and all seemed happy to have a pretty woman to look at while they did.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Evans,” the waiter said pleasantly.

  “Won’t you join me?” a smooth male voice asked.

  Millie whipped around.

  Peterson smiled. “I hoped I might see you again this morning. My table is right over here.”

  CHAPTER 19

  I’m sorry I can’t just let you have the horse,” Dan told Whitey. “Until we see what happens to Hastings and perhaps determine whether the animal really belongs to him, I think we’d better keep it in Scottsburg.”

  “Makes no nevermind to me,” Whitey said, but his mouth drooped behind the fluffy, white beard. “If you don’t mind, I’ll tag along when you go into town. Got no hurry to get back up to my cabin.”

  “We’d be delighted to have your company a bit longer,” Anne assured him.

  They enjoyed a hearty breakfast at Mrs. Zinberg’s house.

  “Not every woman knows how to fry an egg to perfection,” Whitey said with a big smile for the widow.

  “Oh Mr. Pogue, you flatter me.”

  “No harm in flattering one as deserves it.”

  Dan glanced over at Anne, who didn’t try very hard to hide her smile. Was Mrs. Zinberg actually blushing? Maybe he ought to pay attention—the old man seemed to be a master of flirtation.

  “I’ll be going to worship service this morning,” the widow said. “You folks are welcome to attend.”

  Startled, Dan realized he’d completely lost track of the days. He turned to Anne. “Would you like to attend church?”

  “Very much.”

  He nodded. “I admit I was planning to check at the post office today, but that will be closed.”

  “Maybe we could inquire at some of the hotels before church,” Anne said. “Mrs. Zinberg, what is the best hotel in Scottsburg?”

  “Oh, that would be the Miner’s Hotel.”

  “Hands-down,” Whitey agreed.

  “And there are several other boardinghouses,” Mrs. Zinberg said, “but all the mining company investors and government officials stay at the Miner’s Hotel.”

  “Let’s check there first,” Anne said. “And if you can tell us where some of those boardinghouses are, we’ll try them if my uncle’s not at the hotel.”

  “Mr. Adams, there’s a small matter I’d like to speak to you about.”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She looked a little embarrassed, and Dan wondered if she’d heard him and Anne talking in the middle of the night and jumped to conclusions.

  “Well, perhaps I shouldn’t mention it on the Lord’s Day, but after hearing about your misadventures over the last two days, I did wonder if perhaps you wouldn’t be in the market for a revolver.”

  Dan eyed her in surprise. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea. I wished I had one when that thief made off with my horse and my rifle.”

  “Well, I have my husband’s revolver, and heaven knows I would never use it. I don’t even know how to load it. If you’re interested in looking at it….”

  Dan glanced at Anne, who was calmly sipping her tea. She didn’t seem to have a problem with him buying a handgun, or with him and their hostess doing business on Sunday. “Thank you, ma’am. I’d be happy to look at i
t.”

  The transaction was soon completed to both Dan’s and Mrs. Zinberg’s satisfaction. She allowed that she could use the extra bit of money more than she could a weapon.

  Half an hour later, the travelers took their leave. Mrs. Zinberg all but simpered when Whitey bowed over her hand.

  “If things don’t work out for you in town, Mr. Pogue, you’re welcome to return here for luncheon. I’ll have plenty.”

  “Why, ma’am, that’s a delightful invitation. I may avail myself of that.”

  Dan turned away to adjust his saddle’s cinch strap. He never would have guessed the old miner had a deep vocabulary and courtly manners up his worn flannel sleeve.

  They rode together to Constable Owens’s house.

  “Good morning, folks. I expected you to come around.”

  Dan swung down from the saddle and gave Anne a hand.

  “How’s the prisoner?” he asked.

  “Fine when I took him his breakfast. A little chilly, but my wife had sent over two blankets, and he had a coat. He’s all right.”

  “We’ve decided to see if we can find Mr. Stone,” Dan said. “He may be able to help us settle some questions. We’ll come back here later and tell you what we learn.”

  “All righty. Say—have you checked the Miner’s Hotel?”

  “That’s where we’re headed,” Dan said. He felt like the model of incompetence. He hadn’t checked the Miner’s Hotel their first day in town, but he should have. Had David Stone been two blocks away, and he’d missed him? But he’d asked the postmaster and been told David hadn’t been in for a week. More likely he’d returned to Scottsburg right about the time Dan and Anne left to ride up to his claim.

  He gave Anne a boost into Bailey’s saddle and then mounted Star. They set out without any more words, but he could almost hear Anne’s thoughts—how close had they come to running into her uncle on the street? Dan had led her on a wild goose chase that nearly ended in tragedy for nothing.

  The hotel sprang into view—a large, three-storied house with rambling porches and lots of windows. It looked comfortable and more substantial than places miners and dockhands would stay.

  In the lobby, a dignified man of about forty stood behind the desk, checking a guest out of the hotel. When the customer left, Dan stepped forward, with Anne and Whitey on his heels.

  “Hello. We’re here to see Mr. David Stone. This young lady is his niece, and we were told he may be staying here.”

  “Oh yes, Mr. Stone is a frequent guest,” the clerk said. “I’ll send someone up to see if he’s in his room.”

  “Thank you,” Dan said.

  The clerk nodded as he came from behind the desk. “Would you like to sit down while you wait? We’re serving breakfast now. If you’d like, you can order coffee in the dining room.”

  Anne shook her head.

  Dan said, “We’re fine, thank you. We’ll wait out here.”

  The clerk went through a doorway, and Dan guided Anne to a settee in the shadow of a folding screen. Whitey found a straight chair a short distance away and dragged it over. He plunked down in it opposite them.

  “Well, it’ll be good to see ol’ David again,” Whitey said.

  Dan smiled at the old codger’s designation of a forty-year-old as “ol’ David,” but Anne’s face remained sober. She folded her gloved hands on her lap, but her gaze darted about the lobby. The clerk returned to his post a minute later, and he appeared to be busy with some papers.

  “I do hope we find him in,” Anne said. Anxiety lined her lovely brow.

  Dan reached over and patted her hands. “I hope so, too. You’ve been through a lot, and this meeting is long overdue.”

  Five minutes later a boy arrived at the desk, red-faced and panting. He spoke in low tones to the clerk, who glanced their way, picked up something, and left the room with the boy.

  Dan had a bad feeling about that, but he didn’t say anything to Anne. Instead, he asked Whitey how the prices were on foodstuffs in the area. A grandfather clock in one corner ticked off the minutes, until he wondered if they would be late for church. At last the clerk reappeared, coming down the stairs this time, and walked across the lobby to where they sat.

  “I’m sorry, but it seems Mr. Stone is not in his suite.”

  “Oh.” Anne stared at him blankly.

  “But he is still staying here?” Dan said.

  “Oh yes. I’m sure he’s only stepped out for a while.”

  Dan stood and stepped closer to the clerk. “Miss Stone has had an arduous journey to find her uncle. She is his nearest relation, and she’s come to break news to him concerning a death in the family. If Mr. Stone has engaged a suite, would it be possible for you to allow her to wait for him there?”

  “Oh, I…” The clerk eyed him doubtfully then looked over his shoulder. Two men stood near the front desk looking annoyed. “I must go and help those guests check out. But I couldn’t let you into the suite without permission from Mr. Reed.”

  “And who is Mr. Reed?” Dan followed the clerk as he set off across the lobby.

  “He’s the manager, sir. He should be here soon, and I’ll let him know your request.”

  “Thank you.” Dan walked back to where Anne and Whitey waited.

  Millie doctored her coffee carefully and avoided meeting Peterson’s gaze. Had she actually thought him attractive on their first meeting? He made her skin crawl.

  “Now, as I see it, there are only two possibilities,” he said in a low, businesslike tone. “Either his body washed downstream and has yet to be found, or he escaped alive, in which case it behooves the two of us to find him.”

  Millie contained her snort to a dignified hmph. If Peterson expected her to stay in Scottsburg, he was suffering delusions. The only thing it behooved her to do was to leave town as quickly as possible. And she could guess why Peterson wanted to find David—to finish off the job he’d botched the first time.

  Was it possible that David was still alive? She sincerely hoped he was.

  “If he came back to his room last night, he may be upstairs this minute,” Peterson said. “Or he might have found a doctor. I’m sure I hit him. We need to inquire as to whether there’s a physician in the area.”

  “Why don’t you do that?” she asked in sugary tones. “But if we’re going on with this charade, shouldn’t I raise an alarm?”

  “And have the authorities out looking for his corpse? Hmm, that might actually be to my advantage. I tried half the night to find him on my own, and I couldn’t. There must be people hereabouts who know the vagaries of the river. But how will we explain to them that we think he’s in it?”

  “I don’t know, but if David is still alive, I certainly don’t want him coming back and finding me placidly eating breakfast with the likes of you.” She drained her coffee cup and pushed back her chair.

  “Wait,” Peterson said. “I need to know what you’re going to do—where you’ll be.”

  “I’ll leave you a note at the front desk.”

  “But I’m not staying here.”

  “You’re not?” Millie asked.

  “No. I only came in for breakfast and to see you.”

  “Where—” She stopped. What did it matter? She didn’t intend to see him again. She shook her head. “I’ll see if I can find out whether he came in last night.” And what Peterson didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. No way would she tell him she’d picked the lock on David’s door last night. She turned and strode quickly toward the lobby. He couldn’t jump up and pursue her without causing a scene—one Millie would make sure the hotel staff noticed.

  Two steps into the lobby were enough to pull her up short. Five yards straight ahead, the hotel manager was in earnest conversation with Daniel Adams and Anne Stone.

  “It’s very irregular,” Mr. Reed said. “We don’t usually go into a guest’s room uninvited or allow visitors to do so.”

  “But he’s her uncle,” Dan said.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask:
do you have proof of that?”

  Dan looked at Anne. He wanted to get tough with the manager, but the request was reasonable. Anyone could waltz in claiming to be a relative of a guest and use it as license to ransack a room.

  “I have a picture of him.” Anne delved into her handbag and brought out the miniature. “It was painted when he was young—about twenty years old.”

  She opened the case and handed it to Reed.

  “I also have a letter that he wrote to my father some time ago, when he lived in St. Louis.”

  Reed eyed the portrait and pressed his lips together. “Hmm. This does bear a resemblance to Mr. Stone.”

  Anne took the miniature back and gazed at it for a moment before closing the case. “You see, Mr. Reed, my father died less than a year ago. David is his younger brother, and he has no idea about my father’s death. I went to St. Louis hoping to find him there, but I learned he’d moved to Oregon. Sir, I’ve been searching for him all this time. Please, if there’s anything you can do to help me…”

  Her vibrant brown eyes, along with her plaintive story and her charming appearance, would persuade any man, Dan thought. Sure enough, Reed seemed to waver. At last he shoved a hand into his pocket.

  “All right. It’s not real proof, but you look like a respectable woman. I don’t mean to cast aspersions on you or to imply that I think you are not what you seem, but one has to be careful. Out here people frequently misrepresent themselves, and it’s my duty to protect our guests.”

  “I understand perfectly,” Anne said. “In fact, I appreciate your diligence. I assure you, I would not take unfair advantage of your kindness. I bear my uncle only goodwill, and this reunion means a great deal to me.”

  Reed pulled a large bunch of keys from his pocket. “All right, since the clerk has already checked Mr. Stone’s rooms, I suppose we can go up.” He shot Dan a glance.