Maybe the boy could answer some of his questions. He clapped his hand on Adam’s shoulder and turned the boy toward town. “Well, young man, let’s go settle your debt with Mrs. Brown.”
*
THE MINUTE THE two males were gone, Faith rushed into the greenhouse. Her aunts were gathered near a flat of peppermint-scented geraniums, tittering and whispering. She didn’t even want to imagine what they were talking about, but their outrageous behavior must stop before the sheriff guessed the truth about them—and herself.
She made sure Cora was occupied with her pail and hand spade and safely out of earshot before she confronted her aunts. “What were you ladies thinking?” she asked, certain they had just forfeited their one chance to build a safe and decent life for themselves.
“That the sheriff is the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” Tansy said, placing her long, artist’s fingers over her heart.
“The sheriff isn’t interested in a woman ten years his senior,” Aster countered in her blunt fashion.
Faith gritted her teeth. “The only thing the sheriff will be interested in is evicting us from his town.”
“The sheriff loved our flirting,” Iris said.
“Well, I didn’t. I was terrified one of you would go too far and—” She bit her lip to stop her rush of words, but tears welled up in her eyes.
“Oh, dahlin’, don’t do that.” Tansy grasped Faith’s hands. “There’s no need to worry.”
“This is our only chance,” Faith whispered, choked by her emotions. “We have to be careful not to tarnish our reputations.”
“We know that, child.” Tansy parked her hand on her narrow waist. “We only teased the sheriff a bit.” She nodded toward the corner where Cora was plowing a stick through soil. “Not one of us will do a single thing to ruin that little girl’s future.”
Her aunts adored Cora and Adam, and Faith wanted to believe they would behave themselves, but she feared the women had spent too many years working in a brothel to be able to conform to polite society.
“Faith, you were so tense you were making the sheriff suspicious.” Iris grinned with satisfaction. “I just flirted a bit to get him to hook up the gas line.”
“I could have hired a man to do that.”
“With what?” Iris asked. “We each contributed every penny we owned to make the move to Fredonia and set up our business. Other than the few coins in your jar, not one of us has a penny to our name.”
“All the more reason for us to mind our manners and present ourselves as decent, respectable women,” Faith insisted.
“Being respectable isn’t going to put food on our table. The only way we’re going to eat this week,” Iris said, “is to get some paying customers into that soaking tub.”
“No.” Faith pressed her palms to her nervous stomach. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to open a bathhouse.”
“Selling herbs won’t earn enough to feed us,” Iris insisted. “Our stock in trade is our ability to make men feel good.”
“That’s exactly what worries me! You know what people will think when they hear we’re giving herbal baths and massages.”
“My growling stomach doesn’t much care,” Aster said, her white eyebrows dipped in a scowl. “I vote for Iris’s plan.”
“Me, too.” Dahlia patted the small paunch beneath her large breasts. “Maybe we weren’t respected while working at the brothel, but at least we ate well.”
Tansy nodded. “What harm can come of giving herbal baths, as long as our patrons wear bathing garments and we don’t give any massages in private?”
“The harm is that one false move, or one nasty rumor, could tear our reputations to shreds, and it’s a risk we can’t afford to take,” Faith said. “We’ve only been here three weeks. Let’s wait a while and see how we do selling herbs.”
“We could afford to wait if one of us had a husband who could provide for us.” Iris arched one ebony eyebrow at Faith. “Maybe you should have flirted with the sheriff.”
“He wouldn’t want a woman like me.”
A sly smile tipped Iris’s lips. “Oh, he wants you.”
Faith heaved an exasperated sigh. “I meant that he wouldn’t want to marry a woman with my past.”
“None of us will get a marriage proposal if we don’t get some men in the door,” Dahlia said. “Believe me, Faith, they won’t come to buy herbs. The only way to get male patrons is to make them feel good.”
“And in turn,” Iris added, “they will make us feel good, which is my first requirement. The second is that the man is handsome. The third is that he’s—”
“Who cares about feeling good?” Aster asked. “I’d be happy with a man who has money and a comfortable home.”
Tansy hugged her arms to her waist. “I would love to hear a man sing again.”
“Bah.” Dahlia patted her buxom cleavage. “Give me a man who’s willing to put his money right here, and I’d spend an hour or two with him.”
Faith threw up her hands and stared at the women. “You are incorrigible! You’re all addicted to men.”
“Not addicted,” Aster said, “just in need. We need money, and we can only get it from the men in town. Without that bath, we’re going to starve.” Aster widened her stance and crossed her arms over her chest. “When was the last time we ate a decent meal?”
It had been at least a month. The week before they left Syracuse they had barely slept, much less eaten a decent meal. But their goal had been to stay alive and to get out of town before Judge Stone returned and stripped them of everything they owned. Faith and her aunts had pooled their money and hired a local livery owner to secretly transport the contents of their greenhouse to Fredonia. In addition to paying his enormous fee, Faith had to buy the grist mill and pay a carpenter to install the huge windows in the first floor. They were broke, out of food, and out of options.
“All right,” she said, heaving a defeated sigh. “I suppose we have no other choice. But you four must promise to be on your best behavior.”
“Fine,” Iris said, “but don’t you forget your part of our bargain. You promised to use your pretty face to get a marriage proposal from a man who can protect us from Judge Stone.”
“Surely you don’t expect me to marry one of those men who proposed to me?” Faith shuddered, remembering the rangy, leather-faced man who’d caught her in the yard while they were first moving plants into the greenhouse. He had kindly carried in several flats of herbs, but he was twice her age and dense as a brick. A young store owner had offered her credit if she would allow him to court her, but his intense interest in the bodice of her dress sent her from the store empty-handed.
“Dahlin’, I wouldn’t let you cross the street with either of those men,” Tansy said, “but I’d push you straight into the marriage bed with that handsome sheriff.”
“Are you insane? The last person I want snooping around here is a lawman.”
“But who better to have defending our lives than the sheriff?” Iris gave her a bold wink. “Can you imagine having a man like him in your bed?”
Yes, she could. In one short visit she’d noticed too much about the handsome sheriff. He was a take-charge man, a man in control of himself, a sharp-eyed investigator aware of everything around him. His dark eyes had sized her up within seconds of their introduction. His smile said he liked what he saw, but she sensed a fierce resolve in him that scared her to death.
Chapter Four
*
ADAM WAS GLAD the sheriff had hooked up the gas line for them, but the man should have kept his big mouth shut: He should have put Adam in jail, or let him pay his debt privately instead of upsetting Faith.
As they headed toward Water Street, Adam stole glances at him. The sheriff’s hands were huge, with big knuckles that could knock a person’s teeth out with one punch. Adam’s own knobby, long-fingered hands would never be as big or strong as the sheriff’s. The man was a giant. His arms bulged with so much muscle they were bigger around than A
dam’s legs.
“I’ll drop this at my office before we visit Mrs. Brown,” the sheriff said, lifting the jar of balm that Faith had given him.
Adam didn’t know if the sheriff might throw it out, but it had taken a long time and a lot of work for him and Faith to make that balm. If the sheriff was just going to waste it, he was going to ask for it back. “You should use it, sir.”
“You think it will help then?”
Adam nodded. “The salicin and herbs work good on sore muscles.”
“So you know a bit about herbs?”
“Yes, sir.” Adam lengthened his stride, but was unable to match the sheriff’s long gait. “I know almost as much as Faith does. She’s been teaching me since I was Cora’s age.”
“Did your mother grow herbs too?”
“No, sir. She grew roses.”
“How did Faith learn about herbs?”
“Books. She says that’s the best way to learn about things.”
The sheriff angled his Stetson to shade his eyes from the sun. “You enjoy reading?”
“Yes, sir.” Adam squinted up at him. “We read every night after supper.”
“We?”
“Faith and I read to Cora.”
“Would your sister let me come by some evening and listen?”
“No, sir. Faith dislikes men.” And Adam didn’t want the sheriff around spying on him or upsetting Faith.
The sheriff raised his eyebrows. “That must have made her husband uncomfortable.”
Adam looked at his feet and called himself an empty-headed idiot. He wasn’t supposed to talk about Faith’s husband. His big mouth could ruin everything if he wasn’t careful.
“Something wrong, son?”
“No, sir. I was… I was thinking that Cora might tell you a story, but it’ll be so crazy you won’t understand it. The last story she told was about a flying snake named Lester who gave Cora a ride over a rainbow and turned them both into butterflies so they could live in my mother’s rosebush.” He glanced up to see if the sheriff had that squinty suspicious look on his face, hoping his story had smoothed over his mistake. The sheriff’s grin relieved him. “I told Faith that Cora must have eaten jimsonweed. It makes a person hallucinate.”
“You don’t ever eat those type of plants, do you?”
“No, sir,” Adam said between clenched teeth. He hated that everyone always thought the worst of him.
“Good.” The sheriff clapped his big hand on Adam’s shoulder and drew him to a stop in front of the barbershop on Water Street.
A man even taller than the sheriff stepped into the rutted street to meet them. “Where have you been hiding?” the man asked. “I’ve been by your office twice this morning.”
“I’ve been training my new deputy” The sheriff patted Adam’s shoulder.
Although he was joking, a thrill rushed through Adam. He couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be a strong, respected lawman.
“This is Adam Dearborn,” the sheriff said. “Adam’s sister bought Colburn’s mill and is opening a greenhouse business. Adam, this is my oldest brother, Radford.”
The man was taller and leaner, his hair darker and his eyes lighter, but he and the sheriff looked like brothers. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grayson,” Adam said.
To his surprise, Mr. Grayson reached out and shook his hand. “You’re the youngest deputy I’ve ever met, Mr. Dearborn.”
Adam tried to smile, but it hurt too much, knowing a position like the sheriff’s was beyond his reach. He shook Mr. Grayson’s hand then stepped away while the men talked.
Women blushed and smiled as they passed by, especially at the sheriff, but he and his brother just nodded in their friendly way and kept talking about timber.
Adam leaned against the warm red bricks of the two-story building, wondering how it felt to be greeted like that. The sheriff’s brother had been nice to him, but that was because Adam was with the sheriff. If he’d been alone, the man wouldn’t have noticed him at all. No one ever noticed a prostitute’s bastard. And for Adam, it had been safer to be unseen.
When the sheriff finished talking with his brother, Adam crossed Main Street with him then walked a block down Temple Street, the one that cut between the parks. Adam was proud that he was remembering the street names and learning his way around his new hometown.
They entered a brick building with two square towers on the front, and he wondered if the sheriff locked criminals in the towers but didn’t dare ask. Inside they passed a small room with iron bars on the door. It looked dark and cold there, and Adam was suddenly glad the sheriff hadn’t locked him up.
At the next room, a note had been tacked to the door. The sheriff pulled it free and unlocked the door. A huge wooden desk squatted in the middle of the office, with papers scattered over its surface. The sheriff read the note, laid it on the mess on his desk, and plunked the jar of balm on top of it. “Looks like I’ve got a busy afternoon,” he said.
“What is all that stuff?” Adam asked.
“Arrest warrants. Complaints. Tax notices. Town meeting notes. Court papers.” The sheriff shrugged. “The usual.” Adam wrinkled his nose, and the sheriff laughed. “I couldn’t agree more. Give me a couple of bank robbers to chase any day.”
Adam gawked. “You chase bank robbers?”
The sheriff laughed. “Only twice.”
“Gosh.”
“I was jesting with you, son. I dislike the paperwork for my job, but I don’t want any robberies of any kind in my county.”
“Yes, sir.” Adam hung his head and followed the sheriff back outside.
As they crossed the wide grassy Common, Sheriff Grayson nodded to the men they passed, and lifted his Stetson to the ladies. Adam imagined himself Duke’s son, a prince walking beside a king, instead of an unwanted bastard scurrying out of the way so he wouldn’t soil anybody’s clothing.
He was so busy admiring the sheriff’s badge as they entered Brown & Shepherd’s store, he ran into a man with a chest as hard as a brick wall. His eyes flashed upward, and he saw that he’d run into the sheriff’s brother. “Sorry, sir,” he said, quickly stepping aside.
Mr. Grayson gave him a pleasant nod, but Adam barely noticed. Standing beside the man was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was as tall as he was, and she looked straight into his eyes, smiling with such warmth that he felt as if she’d hugged him.
Girls never smiled at him. Not ever. In Syracuse he’d rarely left the yard of the brothel or explored outside his own neighborhood, but when he had, everyone knew he didn’t belong near them. They would lift their noses or turn away, pretending not to see him. He didn’t belong there, and he knew it.
“This is my daughter, Rebecca,” Mr. Grayson said, putting his arm around the girl. They both had dark hair, but Rebecca’s brown eyes were shades darker than her father’s, and her smile was much friendlier. “Rebecca, this is Adam Dearborn, who has just moved in at the old Colburn place.”
“Why, that’s just down the street from us.” Her smile widened, and she extended her hand. “Welcome to Fredonia, Adam.”
His name had never sounded so important. He’d never felt his heart bang in his chest so hard, not even the time one of Iris’s johns had caught him peeking in the brothel window. He raked his hair out of his eyes and reached to shake her pretty white hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, but his voice cracked and it sounded like he’d said, Pleased to MEET you.
Rebecca laughed, but it was a warm sound, and she gave his hand a secret squeeze.
Her father drew her away. “We need to get home before your mother accuses us of dallying all morning.”
She nudged him in the ribs. “You’re just rushing me home because you want me to help you clean the livery.”
“You’re getting too smart for me.” A smile made her father look much friendlier, but it was the love in his eyes that jolted Adam. His own father would never look at him like that. He didn’t know the man. Did
n’t know his name. Didn’t even know if he was alive. Didn’t care either.
“It was nice to meet you, Adam.”
He nodded to Rebecca then curled his trembling fingers into his palm, wanting to trap the tingling sensation and keep it with him forever.
“I’ll see you two at supper,” the sheriff said to Rebecca and her father.
Rebecca waved goodbye to the sheriff, but her big brown eyes were looking right at Adam as she stepped outside with her father.
The sheriff’s lips quirked up. “Looks like my niece intends to be your friend.”
Girls like Rebecca didn’t befriend boys like Adam. He opened his mouth to tell the sheriff that, but realized for the first time since coming to Fredonia, no one knew he was a prostitute’s kid. They only knew he was Faith’s brother, and she was a respectable widow running a respectable business.
He could be like everyone else here. He could have friends, play ball, go swimming in the lake in the summertime. And someday, maybe he could even have a secret sweetheart like Rebecca.
The possibilities made his heart leap. A newfound sense of freedom filled him with hope.
“Come on, son, it’s time to make your apology to Mrs. Brown.”
The sheriff could have punched him with his big fist and hurt him less than the sudden regret twisting Adam’s gut. How could he have been so stupid as to steal a brush? Thieves weren’t any more welcome in a town like this than prostitutes or their children.
“Sheriff Grayson?”
The sheriff turned back, his dark eyebrow arched in question. “Thank you for not telling your brother what I did.”
“This business is between you and Mrs. Brown. It doesn’t concern my brother.”
“I won’t… I swear I won’t do anything like this again,” Adam said, fumbling for words, wanting to undo his mistake. All he wanted now was to make himself over into a man like the sheriff, a man worthy of a girl like Rebecca Grayson.
Chapter Five
*
Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set Page 31
