He rubbed at his eyes, another memory returning. He’d gone to the Wildcat, shot it out with two men who were friends of Ed Foley. He hadn’t meant to cause that kind of trouble. He’d only wanted to get a look at Foley. He sat there on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Both of Foley’s men had been down. He remembered a blow to the head, falling … Had someone snuck up behind him and hit him with something?
“Thanks, Doc.”
Cole recognized Sassy’s voice, looked up when she walked into the room wearing a blue dress that was rather demure for her, although the oval cutout in front displayed a fetching amount of flesh. She looked relieved when she saw him sitting up.
“He’s awake, Doc!”
A man entered, and Cole recognized the town doctor, Creighton Jonesboro. The man smiled. “Well, I figured you’d wake up pretty quick. My guess is you sustained only a light concussion. Let’s have a look.”
Cole frowned in confusion as the man knelt in front of him to study his eyes and take his pulse.
“What the hell happened?”
“You don’t remember?” the doctor asked.
“I remember shooting it out with a couple of men, then leaving. Something hit me in the head.”
“That something was a bullet,” Sassy told him. “You’re damn lucky to be alive, Cole. One of the men you shot stirred around and took a pot-shot at you as you left. A few minutes later he died. Both men are dead.”
“Good. There’s nothing I hate more than a back-shooter.”
The doctor rose. “I think you’ll be just fine in a few days—in time for the big miners’ picnic. Just stay away from Ed Foley and his friends. For now, you’d best stay right here for a few hours more. Would you like some coffee?”
Cole winced as another pain stabbed at the right side of his head. “Yeah. Sure.”
The doctor left, and Cole nodded toward his jacket. “Tobacco and papers in there. Can you roll me a cigarette?” he asked Sassy.
“Sure, honey.” The woman walked over and rummaged through his pockets. “I heard the whole story from a very excited Benny Reed. Thanks to Benny you’re not in any trouble. He told the sheriff how you tried to avoid a confrontation, but those men drew on you first. Then one of them shot at you from behind as you were leaving. I must say, Grant Breckenridge isn’t worth risking your life over like that.”
Cole rubbed at the back of his neck. “I agree. Benny told me Foley’s side of the story—about the same as what you told me. Breckenridge is a sonofabitch, no doubt about it; but it isn’t him I’m risking my life for. It’s—” He looked over at the man who lay sleeping, not wanting to be heard. “You know who it is. I need the money Breckenridge pays so maybe I can marry her in a few months.”
Sassy licked the cigarette paper and sealed the smoke. “I just hope she appreciates what you’re doing.” She handed him the cigarette, then walked over to a wood stove where stick matches sat in a can. She lit one and came over and lit Cole’s cigarette for him. “I got real worried when Benny said they brought you over here unconscious, shot in the head. You know how stories travel through this town. Half the folks here probably already think you’re dead or dying. You’ll end up the subject of another newspaper article.”
Cole took a deep drag on the cigarette. “Yeah, well, I don’t care much for the publicity. I don’t need it.”
Sassy chuckled. “You’re the kind of man who draws attention, Cole Parker. I—” She heard voices outside then, recognized Grant’s. “Sounds like your boss has come to pay his respects.”
Breckenridge stepped through the door, and Cole felt his heart pound harder at the sight of Addy with him. He knew immediately she had only found an excuse to come along because she needed to see for herself he was all right. She would have no way of explaining if she came to see him alone.
“Well, you are all right! You had me worried, Parker,” Breckenridge said with a grin. He glanced at Sassy. “Hello, Miss Dillon.”
Cole wanted to laugh at the man’s play-acting, pretending he hardly knew Sassy. Sassy nodded in return. “Mr. Breckenridge.” She moved her eyes to Addy, and the two women glared at each other. Cole knew why, but he was glad to know Breckenridge didn’t catch on. He apparently thought Addy was upset to be in the same room as a prostitute.
“I’m sorry, Miss Dillon, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave,” Grant told Sassy. “It’s difficult for Mrs. Kane here to be associated with—well, you know.”
Cole had to look away to keep from laughing. He damn well knew what Sassy would really like to say to Grant, but she managed to keep her composure.
“Certainly.” she turned and deliberately bent down to kiss Cole’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay, honey. Free drinks and a meal on me when you leave here.” She patted his cheek and turned to face Addy. “We’re just friends, you know. Cole works for me part time. I’m sure you don’t know Mr. Parker very well, but then he did save your hide a couple of weeks ago, didn’t he? He’s a good man.”
Addy was obviously struggling against tears. “I … I’m sure he is.”
A lot better than some men I know, Sassy wanted to add. She glanced at Grant, who gave her a warning look before she left the room.
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right, Cole,” Grant told him. “I heard all kinds of rumors—dead, dying, parylized, shot in the back.” He chuckled. “You’re becoming quite a celebrity.”
Cole scooted back onto the bed and sat up against the head rail. “I’d rather not be.”
The doctor brought him a mug of coffee and set it on a table beside him, then left again.
“I was on my way to pick up Mrs. Kane for dinner when I heard about the shootings, so I brought her along to see you, since you’re the one who got her away from that drunken miner a couple of weeks ago. It’s getting so I owe you more and more, Cole. You’re doing a fine job. I’ll bet you went over to the Wildcat just to get a look at Ed Foley, didn’t you?”
Cole took a swallow of coffee. “I did. But I did not mean to get into anything like what happened.” His dark eyes drilled into Breckenridge. “Is the story I heard true? The reason Foley despises you?”
Grant lost his smile. “Not at all. Foley came out here as an employee for Chadwick Mining, just like me, then tried to steal a claim from them. I caught him at it and he lost his job. That’s all there is to it. As far as what happened to his son—well, that was an accident. How could I have controlled such a thing? I’m sorry for him. I have a son of my own, you know.”
Cole set the coffee aside, glancing at Addy again. She quickly wiped a tear from her cheek so Grant would not notice. “You said something about him coming here to live,” he said.
Grant nodded, a proud look in his eyes. “His name is James, and he’s twenty-one. He’s in Chicago—studying to be a lawyer. Smart kid,” he bragged. “Started college at sixteen. I can’t wait to show him off when he gets here.”
“That so?” Cole took another drag on his cigarette, able to understand even better Ed Foley’s bitterness. Grant Breckenridge still had a son.
“You’ve never said exactly when he’s coming,” Addy told Grant.
He moved an arm around her waist, and Cole had to look away. “Well, dear, I just found out myself recently in his latest letter. I meant to tell you all about it at dinner. He’s coming just a few days after the picnic. I can’t wait for him to meet you.”
Addy knew how it all sounded to Cole. Grant made it look as though it was all settled. They were a couple. She was to meet his son, as though they should consider the possibility of all being a family. “I’ll be glad to meet him, too,” she answered. She looked at Cole, who finally met her eyes again. She tried to tell him with those eyes that this meant nothing. I said I would wait for you, Cole. If only they could talk. She was so happy to see he was all right, not dead like she’d heard. She wanted to hold him. “How do you feel, Mr. Parker?” she asked.
Cole shrugged. �
�A little sick to my stomach, got a headache. The doc says it’s just a mild concussion. I’ll live.” He looked at Grant. “Long enough to have that dance with Mrs. Kane at the miners’ picnic,” he added. “Don’t forget you promised.”
Grant laughed. “I haven’t forgotten.” He kept his arm around Addy. “I forgot to tell you, Addy. I told Cole that if I win money on him at the shooting contest, he could have a dance with you. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t mean to offend.”
Addy watched Cole, wanting to smile then. “I don’t mind.”
“Just be careful of your heart, Cole,” Grant warned. “You’ll be dancing with the prettiest woman in Central, but you remember who she belongs to.”
Addy cast Grant a look of irritation, wanting to lash out at him for taking so much for granted. Her cheeks felt hot at the fact he’d said such a thing in front of Cole, who probably thought she’d gone back on her promise. She gave Cole a pleading look, hoping he understood those were Grant’s words, not hers. She saw the hurt in Cole’s face. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his head then.
“I’ll remember,” he answered Grant. He wanted to rail the man about Ed Foley. He didn’t believe Grant’s side of the story for one minute, but he also didn’t want to lose his job. Working for Grant Breckenridge meant good money, and it meant a chance to find excuses to be close to Addy. He just hoped the look she gave him meant what he thought it meant. He was tempted to jump up and pull her away from the man, right down onto the bed with him … to tell the world he was more and more sure he was in love with Addy Kane, and pretty damned sure she loved him, too. How he was going to get her away from Grant and marry her without both of them getting in a lot of trouble, he wasn’t sure. Grant Breckenridge was not a man to be crossed, and he couldn’t just shoot the man, although he’d dearly love to do just that. He looked up at Grant again. “Thanks for coming to see me.” He touched the bandage on his head. “I guess now I’ll have two scars on this head.”
Grant smiled. “I suppose. How’d you get the one on your forehead? The war?”
Cole glanced at Addy. “Yeah. The war.”
“Well, you’re a good man, Parker. Be sure you enter that shooting contest at the picnic. I intend to bet a great deal of money on you.”
Cole nodded. “I’ll do that.” He looked at Addy. “You sure you don’t mind that dance?”
Addy felt a rush of desire, and she could almost taste his kiss. It would not be easy just to dance. “I’m sure.” She blinked back more tears and took a deep breath, putting on a smile for Grant. “We’ll be late for the Collingswoods. I’m sure Hester’s cook has a meal waiting.”
“Oh, yes!” Grant reached out to shake Cole’s hand. “Quite a shootout, I’m told. That should show Foley a thing or two—not to mess with the men I hire. I hire only the best!”
Cole shook his hand, but he had a stronger urge to land a fist into the man’s face. “I try. I don’t know how I got so careless as to turn my back like that. I thought both men were down.”
“Well, consider it a lesson. You’re good with a gun, Cole, but maybe you have a little bit to learn about men who shoot back at you.”
Cole glanced at Addy before replying. If the man knew the truth, he’d be in prison in no time at all. “Sure,” he answered. “I should have learned that in the war.”
Grant put an arm around Addy again and whisked her to the door. “Get some rest, Cole. I want you well for the picnic!” He rushed Addy away, and Cole sat staring at the door.
“I’ll be well, all right,” he muttered. “Well enough to dance with Addy Kane.”
Twenty-Three
Grant looked up from his desk when the door to his study opened.
“You have a visitor,” his housekeeper told him. “I was outside sweeping the porch when Mrs. Brown drove up in a buggy and asked to see you. Would you like me to bring her in here?”
Grant frowned curiously. He had no use for Ethel Brown, other than to stay on her good side, since she had a lot of influence in Central. He was instantly a little worried. Had she found out about his occasional visits to Sassy Dillon? He trusted Sassy not to tell anyone publicly, no matter what happened to her business. She had been paid well to keep her mouth shut, and he had discreetly lain low during all the hullabaloo over prostitution. “Yes, you can bring her in.”
He quickly pressed out a cigar and walked to a mirror over the fireplace, smoothing back the sides of his hair and taking a last-minute look at himself. Ethel Brown was easily charmed. He tugged at a paisley satin vest, took a gold watch from a pocket of that vest to check the time. Two P.M. He walked to his desk and took a suit jacket from the back of the chair, pulling it on as he heard the rustle of skirts and petticoats in the hallway. His housekeeper showed Ethel into his study, and Ethel did not give her so much as a thank you as she put her nose in the air and swept into the room, her full figure nearly filling the doorway.
“Well, Mrs. Brown, what a pleasant surprise!” Grant lied. “What can I do for you today?”
The woman had a look of unnerving arrogance in her puffy eyes as she gave him a grim smile. “It is not so much what you can do for me, Mr. Breckenridge, but rather what I might be able to do for you.” She turned and closed the door, then walked closer to his desk. “I will talk quietly so that your housekeeper doesn’t hear.”
Grant noticed she held a brown envelope in her hand and his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What on earth are you being so secretive about?” Maybe she had heard something about him and the prostitutes after all. “Please sit down, Mrs. Brown. Can I have my housekeeper get you anything? Tea perhaps?”
“Oh, that’s quite all right. I don’t need anything.” Ethel sat down in a velvet chair, glancing around the room, feeling very important today. Not only was she a welcome guest in this important man’s home, but he had allowed her directly into his study—Grant Breckenridge’s study. It smelled of cigars and leather, and books lined the walls. Little did she know Grant had put them there only to make an impression. He had read very few of them, but in her mind he was a wonderful man, a lonely widower whom she didn’t want to see hurt. He had to know the truth. Surely she was doing the right thing, telling him what she had learned about Addy Kane.
Ethel held out the envelope. “I am here because of this, Mr. Breckenridge.” She laid the envelope on his desk. “And to bring you news that might be quite upsetting. You may even think it is none of my business, but I feel it is my Christian duty to tell you what I have learned … about Mrs. Addy Kane.”
Grant felt a note of alarm. Addy? He picked up the envelope, read the return address. “Sheriff Nicholas Page, Unionville, Illinois.” He started to remove the letter inside.
“Let me explain before you read the letter, Mr. Breckenridge.”
Grant laid the letter aside and sat down in a leather chair behind his desk. “Go ahead.”
Ethel took a deep breath, sitting straight and proud. “You know that in the beginning I had some doubts about our Mrs. Kane.”
Grant nodded. “I have found her to be a fine woman, Mrs. Brown. She is discreet, educated, mannerly, beautiful—”
“That is the trouble with men,” Ethel interrupted. “When a woman is beautiful, they don’t want to know anything bad about her. They see only the good, and I am sure Mrs. Kane has many good points. But you should know …” She leaned closer. “Several weeks ago, the night of her reception at Lawrence Hall, after she went home, John Withers, who also lived at Miss Ada’s then, heard her come in, then go out again. Minutes later he heard voices outside in the dark. He could not hear their exact words, but it was a man and a woman. When Mrs. Kane came back inside, she seemed upset. He was sure he heard her crying. I am not saying she did anything wrong. I am only saying that this is proof that Mrs. Kane lied when she said she knew absolutely no one in town when she first came here. There apparently was someone she knew, and it was a man. My immediate questions were who is this man, and what is their relati
onship? Is he still in town? Why wouldn’t she want anyone to know she knew him? Is he someone who would mar her reputation and keep her from teaching? I decided we had not investigated this woman’s background enough before hiring her, so I wrote to the sheriff in her hometown to find out more about her, and his reply was shocking. There is something about her past that she never told us, and I hate to think of the possible reason why. Whether or not it has anything to do with her meeting someone the night of the reception—”
“Wait a minute! Slow down,” Grant interrupted. “Give me a minute to grasp all of this.” He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. Addy had met some man after the reception, out in the dark behind the boarding house? Who? Why? Was he still around? After all the times he had called on her, taken her to dinner, social events and such, she had remained distant and cool toward him. Was there another man in her life he didn’t know about?
The thought made him furious. He wanted Addy Kane more than he had ever wanted another woman. He had even considered marrying her, not because he loved her, but just to be sure no one else got his hands on her. He sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk. “All right. Tell me what’s in this letter.”
He noted the excitement and pleasure in Mrs. Brown’s eyes, although he knew she was trying to remain very serious and pretend concern. Her pudgy face was flushed with eagerness.
“Back in Unionville Mrs. Kane was caught up in a bank robbery only a couple of weeks before she left to come to Central. She was abducted by the robbers. The whole gang rode off with her, and she was missing for five days. Five days! The sheriff formed a posse right away, but they lost the trail.”
Grant, shocked himself, leaned back in the chair again. Addy? Abducted by a gang of outlaws? Why on earth hadn’t she told anyone?
“One of the outlaws, a Nick Coleman, was shot and captured during the robbery, but then he escaped, stole a horse to do it. A few days later Mrs. Kane showed up in town, apparently unharmed, but her dress was bloody and torn. She claimed the one called Nick Coleman was shot and killed. The robbers buried him, put her on the stolen horse and sent her back to town because they feared she would slow them down. They headed into Indian Territory to hide out. Two of them, a Ted Sloan and Cal Arden, were later killed in a bank robbery in Missouri. Their leader in the Unionville robbery, Jack Slater, has never been seen since that robbery. The money they stole at Unionville was never recovered. Mrs. Kane claimed she was not … raped. But how can we believe that? A gang of outlaws like that … a beautiful young woman. I suspect she just never told the truth. No woman wants the general public to know about such a thing.”
Until Tomorrow Page 31
