“Here you go.” Grace placed a plate filled with eggs and ham in front of him.
“I didn’t order anything yet, sweetheart.”
She bristled at the endearment. “We only have two choices—this and flapjacks. You look like an eggs and ham kind of man to me, sir.” Grace looked down at him, not for a moment showing her smile.
She was right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He sure wasn’t used to people making choices for him—even if it was just eggs and ham.
“Fine. But I’ll take flapjacks, too. And more coffee,” Connor muttered.
She strolled into the kitchen and let loose with the smile she’d been holding.
“What you grinning at, girl?” Jasper asked.
“Oh, nothing, Jasper. Just something a customer said.”
Half an hour later the kitchen door slammed open. Grace looked over her shoulder to see her customer filling the doorway, glaring at her. She dropped the dirty dish back into the sudsy water, dried her hands, and faced him. Whatever he had to say, she probably deserved it.
Connor walked up and grabbed one of her hands. “Open it,” he ordered.
She wanted to pull loose but something in his eyes made her comply. Her palm opened, and he dropped one twenty dollar gold coin in the center. “You were right. I am an eggs and ham man.” He pinned her with his eyes but there was no hint of humor in his voice or his face. She stared into her palm to confirm what he’d done was real. When she looked back up all she saw was his back as he sauntered out of the restaurant.
******
“I’m looking for Parley Smith. You know him?” Connor had ridden to the other side of Salt Lake. He’d been told that Parley was an attorney with an office a few blocks from the Temple. It was a two-story house with the downstairs divided between a large sitting area opposite a room filled with books, and a rectangular conference table. The woman who greeted him stood when he entered.
“Elder Smith isn’t in right now, but I expect him later today. Would you like to leave a message for him?”
“My name is Connor MacLaren. Elder Smith and I met last night at the meeting.”
She wrote down his name. “Will you come by later, Mr. MacLaren?”
“Yes, I’ll be back today.” He started to leave then had a thought. Connor pulled out the sketch. “You wouldn’t happen to know this man, would you?”
The woman’s eyes opened wide at the drawing, but she said nothing.
“Does he look at all familiar?”
“Well, he does hold a slight resemblance to one of Elder Smith’s relatives.” She focused on the drawing once more. “I’m just not sure, but it does look a little like him.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Well, I…” The door opening and closing stopped her.
“Good morning, Mary.” Parley Smith entered the office and set his hat on the rack. He recognized Connor right off. “Mr. MacLaren. It’s good to see you again.” He noticed the drawing in Mary’s hand and took the paper from her. “I see you’ve shown the drawing to Mary. Unfortunately, I’m sure that she’s never seen the man. Isn’t that right?” He glanced at his secretary.
“Well, I was just taking a look when you walked in Elder Smith.”
“And?” Smith asked.
She looked at Connor then averted her eyes. “Uh, no. I don’t know who he is. I’m sorry.”
Satisfied, Smith looked back at his visitor. “So, what may I help you with, Mr. MacLaren?”
Connor’s eyes narrowed as his head tilted. He knew for certain the man was lying, but didn’t know why. He wondered how far he could push him, and if now was the time, or if he should wait until later, when the man was alone. Connor slid the paper from Smith’s fingers, folded it, and replaced the drawing in his coat pocket.
“I thought we could meet for dinner today. That is, if you have the time.”
Smith took out his pocket watch, looked, and then snapped it shut. “I’m afraid today won’t be possible. Perhaps another time?”
“Of course.” Connor tipped his hat. “Another time then.”
Chapter Three
“I tell you, Jeremiah, the man has a sketch that looks like you, and he’s persistent. He won’t leave until he’s sure you’re not the man he wants.” Parley Smith had taken his buggy to his half-brother’s farm. It was a long drive from his office, but the matter couldn’t wait. “What could he want with you? What have you done?”
“Nothing. I’ve done nothing,” Jeremiah insisted. He kept his private life with his wives sealed inside the walls of his house. The women would not speak of it to anyone, he made certain of it.
“Then why would he have the drawing? You must be honest with me.” Smith was an elder in their church and couldn’t afford to be tainted by any type of scandal. There was enough upheaval and dissension from the new law. He didn’t want to add to that burden. Besides, it was crucial that those who still believed in the doctrine of plural marriages, like the other church leaders and their families, be protected and allowed to continue their faith in the way stipulated by church leaders. Jeremiah was a devout Mormon and adhered to the plural marriage doctrine. He no longer spent long hours in saloons with whores. He had ceased being an embarrassment to the family years ago.
“There is nothing, Parley, I swear it. I am not the man I was years ago. Nina, Ada, and Meggie take care of me and the children. Our farm is good. There is nothing to worry about.” Jeremiah searched his memory for anything he may have done that would cause a man to come looking for him. Nothing came to him. People may not like the way he treated Meggie, but that was between his wife and him. What happened in his house was his business only.
“And you treat your wives well? They are not unhappy or want to leave, like Grace?”
“Grace was crazy, you knew that. She never showed restraint, would not bow to my will, and talked of me to the others. It is good she is gone. The house is better for it.” Just the thought of Grace still sent ripples of anger through Jeremiah’s body. One day he would find her, bring her home, and punish her in a way that fit her transgression.
“You must stay away from town until this man leaves. Whatever he thinks you’ve done, I’m sure he is mistaken, but others might not be so sure. They don’t know how you’ve changed, settled down, since your marriages.” Parley strolled to his wagon and pulled up onto the seat. “You be careful, Jeremiah.”
Jeremiah watched his half-brother leave and wondered what he might have done to come to the attention of an outsider. If the man was here to arrest him for his plural marriages, then he would work with the marshal. No, that couldn’t be the reason.
He knew he was sometimes rough on Meggie, but that was his right as her husband. Moser understood his needs were different from most men. The whores he frequented had always satisfied those desires. They knew what he liked—rough, hard, with violent force when needed. He did nothing that would permanently hurt a woman or leave lasting scars. After all, he was the one who had to look at them. He didn’t see anything wrong with being physical if it brought him satisfaction. Besides, his methods were nobody’s business but his.
The only thing that he could come up with was that Grace was still in the area and complained to the marshal. Or that somehow Meggie had gotten word out about his methods. He was determined to find the reason the stranger sought him out.
Jeremiah fumed as he walked to the house. “Meggie!”
“What is it, Jeremiah? Why are you yelling?” Nina had stopped her work and rushed into the kitchen at the sound of his voice.
“Where is Meggie?” His voice was harsh, demanding.
“I believe she’s out back with the children. They’re playing a game of some kind. Why?”
Jeremiah didn’t answer. He stormed from the house, the door slamming behind him.
He stood a hundred feet from the house and scanned the area. He saw no one. He stalked toward a small barn and saw movement from the back. A minute later one of his daughters came runn
ing around the side, giggling as she made her way to him. She wrapped her arms around his legs and looked up.
“Hello, Papa,” she smiled.
For an instant her father softened and placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair. “Where is Meggie?”
The young girl turned and pointed. “She’s back there, Papa.”
“Good. Now you go to the house and help your Mama.”
“Yes, Papa.”
He followed the continued laughter until he saw his other two daughters playing jump rope. His oldest held one end and Meggie held the other. The middle girl jumped up and down, laughing while she tried not to stumble. The girls stopped when they saw him approach.
“Go inside, girls,” their father said in a soft voice, but his eyes were fixed on Meggie.
The moment his daughters were out of sight he grabbed Meggie by the arm and yanked her behind the family wagon. “What have you been telling people, girl?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered. He could already see the fear in her eyes. Good, she should be afraid.
“Who have you talked to about us—you and me?” he demanded.
His questions confused her. Jeremiah never let her out of his sight on the few visits to town and he never let her speak with anyone.
“No one. I haven’t spoken with anyone,” Meggie said and tried to pull her arm from his grasp.
He squeezed hard before releasing his grip. “You better be telling me the truth because if I discover different, you know what will happen. You understand me?”
“Yes, of course, I understand.” She rubbed her arm knowing a bruise would show by suppertime.
Jeremiah glared at her another moment then turned back toward the house. She watched him leave, grateful he’d only hurt her arm and nothing more. If only she could run and hide like Grace. But she couldn’t. Besides, where would she go? Without Grace, she was utterly alone.
******
“What are you planning, Gracie?” Jasper asked. He’d watched her for an hour, sitting by the lake, alone. Still, he could almost feel the wheels turning in her head. The girl had something she was working through, he was sure.
She smiled. Jasper was the only person who called her Gracie. Except, once in a while, Meggie would call her by the nickname. Grace liked it.
“Why, nothing. Just enjoying the day off and being away from the restaurant.” Grace returned to her daydreaming. Jasper had offered to drive her to the lake, more of a marshland really, that was fed by one of the tributaries of the Great Salt Lake. It was Sunday and Jasper Bing did not believe in working on the Lord’s Day. It had taken most of the morning to reach the water, and it would take several hours to return, but it was heaven in Grace’s mind. She caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye and saw that Jasper was crouching next to her, looking for small stones to throw in the water. He didn’t speak for several minutes, just absorbed the quiet of being out of the city.
“What’s eating at you, Gracie? And don’t tell me nothing ‘cause I know better.”
She’d never tell him the truth. It wouldn’t be right to pull a nice man like Jasper into her plan to somehow go after Meggie and free her. She wasn’t certain Jeremiah would come after them. If he did there were no guarantees he wouldn’t resort to violence. No, if she was going to talk to anyone about what she intended it would be someone who wouldn’t be hurt were she caught.
She’d been thinking about how to go about it all morning and felt she’d come up with something that might work. If she succeeded, the two of them would flee south, maybe to Arizona or New Mexico, but away from Salt Lake Valley, and the reach of Jeremiah Moser.
“It’s nothing really. Just thinking about my family and how much I miss them. Especially my Pa.” May God save her from burning in hell for such a lie.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know it must be hard, no family nearby to visit with and talk. My daughter’s in Denver with my three grandchildren. I miss them every day but I know her husband’s a good man. At least they visit every couple of years.” Jasper thought for a minute. “You know, they’re due for a visit this year. When they come, I want you to meet them. You’d like my daughter, she’s about your age.”
“If they’re at all like you, then I know I’d like them.” Grace leaned back into Jasper’s solid body and relaxed. In her heart, she knew she wouldn’t be in Utah when his family arrived. She’d be long gone, and so would Meggie.
******
It was late, cold, and dark, but Meggie grabbed her robe and a small blanket, then crept down the stairs. She needed air, a walk, and to clear her head. Jeremiah’s accusations had plagued her all evening. He’d confronted her just after Elder Smith visited and she intended to discover why. What had his half-brother said that made Jeremiah rage at her?
The moon was full, providing plenty of light for her walk through the fields. They were between planting seasons. It was easy to see where she walked but also made her location clear to Jeremiah if he woke and found her gone. She kept low and made a path toward the trees that lined their property. Her spot wasn’t far. Meggie had only shared it with one other person. Grace had thought it was where they did their best thinking.
Meggie found their tree and spread out the quilt she’d brought. She looked around once more to be sure Jeremiah hadn’t followed her. When she was certain she was alone, she sat, then laid down on the soft fabric.
She loved this spot. There was a small brook not far away and she could just make out the sound of moving water. Meggie closed her eyes as memories washed over her.
Charleston, South Carolina, several years before
Eugene Jackson had taken her to his small estate outside Charleston, South Carolina. It was north of the city but near the water. The harbor and boats reminded her of Red Hook. She remembered her first day at Eugene’s home. He and Dodge Delaney had escorted her up the wide steps and into the large entry.
“Benjamin and Nettie, I’d like you to meet Meggie. She’ll be staying with us a few days until I get her settled.” By settled, both his butler and cook knew Eugene meant that he’d move her into a small house a few miles away. They knew his routine—this was the fourth woman in as many years. He’d visit her a few times a week for several months then tire of her. Eugene was a generous man. The first three were experienced, sophisticated women, and he’d made provisions for each. This one was different, not at all the same as the others. Poor girl, she’d be alone and lonely most of the time, and in the end, he’d set her free.
To everyone’s shock, Meggie made a slight curtsy, then stood erect, just like Connor had taught her to do around people of means.
“Meggie, there’s no need to curtsy to Ben and Nettie. They work here.”
“Oh, like me,” Meggie said in a solemn voice and turned to the butler and cook, “I have experience as a maid and cook at Mr. Carter’s home. Just tell me what you want me to do...” She stopped when she noticed the look on all their faces.
Eugene’s eyes flew open and his jaw dropped. Son of God, was that what she’d meant at Carter’s when she said she was experienced? Carter had lied to him. What the hell was he going to do with her now?
Dodge Delaney let loose with the most robust laugh she’d ever heard. Instead of subsiding after a few moments, the laugh grew until he was bent over, wiping tears from his eyes. “Sorry, Eugene, but you must admit, this is a gem. Experienced…” he tried to continue but fell into more fits of laughter.
Eugene looked at Dodge in disgust then turned to Ben and Nettie. “Please take Meggie to the kitchen and provide her with a meal. I need to have a word with Mr. Delaney.”
Dodge just made it to a chair in the study before the humor of Eugene’s situation hit him again. He’d never seen his friend so dumbstruck.
“What am I to do with her now, Dodge? My God, she’s an innocent.”
“Damn if I know, but you can’t just throw her out.” He stood and walked over to the small bar to pour a drink for hims
elf and one for his agitated friend. “Perhaps you could find another unsuspecting soul and use the same trick on him,” he suggested and worked to suppress a chuckle.
“Ah, hell. You know as well as I that I can’t do that.”
Dodge took pity on his friend. “Well, she could stay. With her experience she might be a big help to Nettie. After all, your cook is getting older. I’m sure she’d welcome the help.”
“I can’t.”
“And why not? She’s a fine girl. You could train her to be a lady’s maid, Nettie could teach her to sew. Once the girl’s ready you can find her a position in Charleston.”
“No.”
Dodge was confused by his friend’s reluctance to even consider allowing Meggie to stay, but kept his questions to himself. “All right then, you tell me what you’ll do with her.” Dodge strolled to his chair, sat down, and lit a cheroot, taking a long drag.
Eugene paced back and forth, mumbling a few words, and shaking his head. Dodge didn’t interrupt. He knew this was his friend’s way of working through a hard decision. He looked to Dodge, his eyes locking on his friend.
Dodge knew that look and shot from his chair. “No. Absolutely not. I will not take Meggie off your hands. She’s your problem, you deal with her.”
“She’s perfect for you. You’ve always had a way with young women.”
“Not virgins,” Dodge’s voice rose.
“You could teach her. You’ve said you want someone you can talk with, trust more than our normal women. Someone you could keep but who wouldn’t push for marriage.” Eugene looked to his study door then back at a face that had turned hard as stone. “She’s a beauty as well as being closer to your age than mine.”
“I’m only three years younger than you.”
“Yes, but she’s seventeen. At twenty-two, you’re a mere five years her senior. I’m almost an old man compared to you.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, you just turned twenty-five.” Dodge shot back the rest of his whiskey. “And again, if I wasn’t clear the first time, the answer is no.” He grabbed his hat and gloves. “I’m already late for an appointment. I know you’ll make the right decision, Eugene. You always do.”
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