He fidgeted some more with the coin, searching for the right words. "I mean that I didn't intend her to get hurt like this, but she fell against the table and hit her throat on the chair. I only slapped her a few times because she ruined a business deal for me."
Doc was highly skeptical, but he had to admit that Frank looked truly miserable. He studied him for a moment and then made up his mind to speak. "Well, Frank, I know you've slapped Maria around for years, and I don't approve of it. A man shouldn't lift his hand to a woman, but Maria has always stuck by you. I hope and pray, for your sake, that she pulls through."
"She will, Doc," Frank croaked fervently." She just has to!"
Doc wasn't as sure as Frank. A lot of it depended on Maria's state of mind, and he couldn't tell what that was yet. If she was tired of living—then she wouldn't fight to recover. He didn't know what the ruckus had been about, but if it had been bad enough for Mary to run away and leave her mother behind, then it must have been pretty bad. Without a strong will to live, there was a better than average chance Maria wouldn't make it. And if she did, would she have all her wits about her? It was a given fact that Frank would never pay for what he had done to his wife; the laws regarding a man beating his woman were just too vague. Practically nonexistent, which was a shame, in his book. He grunted and dropped his straw hat into place on his iron gray hair. Time would tell all things, as his stepmother used to say. He nodded to Frank as he left.
Chapter Four
Thorn hung his duster on the hook by the door and unbuttoned his shirt, after closing the door leading downstairs to Clary's shop. As he peeled the shirt off his broad shoulders, he made his way to the kitchen. Dropping the shirt on a chair, he grabbed a spoon and dug into the corner of the blackberry cobbler still warming on the stove. Saliva filled his mouth as the smell wafted into his nostrils and his stomach growled. He was starving!
If Clary's cobbler was even half as good as Tilly's, he would die a well-fed and happy man. When that first spoonful hit his taste buds, he was in instant bliss. His eyes closed, and he chewed slowly, savoring the warm flaky crust, the sweet syrupy blackberry juices with just the right touch of tart in the center of the berry creating a burst of sensual pleasure. In his mind, he pictured Clary's nipples covered in the sweet juices while he licked them clean and suckled the berries of her breasts at the same time. Food was certainly not the only thing he was hungry for! His pants had a definite bulge that was starting to get uncomfortable, and he took another big spoonful of the delicious treat. Holding the spoon in his mouth, he peeled the long john up his trim waist and carefully over his head without dislodging the spoon. Behind him, he heard the door to the downstairs open. He quickly grabbed another huge bite of cobbler, a bit of juice escaping and running down the side of chin. That should provide him with plenty of energy for what was coming next.
He was unbuckling his belt buckle and prying off one boot with the toe of the other when they came through the doorway. He froze when he spotted someone behind Clary. Dammit—she wasn't alone! He swore, "What the hell, Clary?" He swiped at the juice on his chin and grabbed for his shirt feeling like all kinds of a fool.
"We'll be in the living room, Thorn," replied Clary, hastily turning around and shooing Mary back through the doorway with a small smirk.
Thorn took a quick drink of water from the ladle of the bucket and wiped the stickiness off his chin. He willed the bulge in his pants to recede as he grimly slipped his long arms back into his white shirt. Where in the devil had that red-headed girl come from? He'd never seen her before, and she'd be a hard one to forget. And why hadn't Clary told him earlier that she had company? Looks like she needed another trip over his knee for holding out on him—not to mention that smug grin he'd seen before she turned away.
When he entered the sitting room, still buttoning up his shirt, he shot Clary a warning look that spoke volumes. but she just smiled sweetly. The sparkle in her delicious eyes told him she had enjoyed that little scene. Well, he would enjoy having her little butt over his knee and painting it a pretty shade of pink, too.
"I didn't know you had company, Clary," he said evenly, noting the tear stains on the girl's face and the haunted look in her eyes. She looked too young to be so troubled, and his gut reaction was that it had something to do with El Paso.
Clary put her arm around the trembling body of the young girl in a protective gesture that he didn't miss. "I didn't know I did, either, until I went downstairs. Then I found Mary hiding in my sewing room. She's in trouble, Thorn, and I told her you could help her." The "so be nice" part wasn't spoken, but the warning in Clary's eyes was easy to read.
Thorn slowly approached the girl and then knelt down in front her, offering her his hand. "Hello, Mary, my name is Thorn. What can I do for you?" he asked gently.
"I-I need to see the governor, Mr. Thorn," Mary replied, her voice shaky, but she timidly touched his hand and then withdrew. "Clary told me you could help me with that."
Thorn smoothed his mustache as he studied her. "And what do you need to see the governor about?"
Mary glanced up at Clary, then back at Thorn. A wary look crossed her face. "I-I'm not supposed to tell anyone that, so I won't be telling you," she replied. "My mama just told me that if anything ever happened to her, I was to go to the governor, and he would know what to do."
Thorn frowned and stood up. "Well, Mary, I need to know a little more than that before I can take you to the governor."
Mary's eyes flashed, and Clary spoke up. "She's lost her mother, Thorn. Frank Ventermin, in El Paso, was beating her mother, and her mother told her to run and get away. She is sure he killed her."
Thorn nodded thoughtfully as he stared down at both of them. "Frank Ventermin owns The Tarnished Rose in El Paso. Is that the Frank you're talking about, Mary?"
She nodded her head rigorously. "Si! He says he's my stepfather and that he and my mama were married, but they weren't, and I'm not his stepdaughter," she spat. "He will send men after me, they will try to take me back, and I won't go and let him hurt me, I won't!" Tears spurted from her eyes as she started to sob. "He has already killed my mother; I won't let him sell me to another man."
Thorn knelt down again and took Mary's hand. "Mary, this is important—did you kill a man?" He watched her closely to gauge her reaction, but there was no guile when she replied immediately.
"No, my mama, she shot him to save me. Frank sold me to him for one night only, he said, but Mama shot that man dead," she sobbed. "And then Frank killed my mama."
Clary shot him a puzzled look. "What are you talking about, Thorn?"
"Just something I'm working on, Clary. I think Mary here might be involved."
"I didn't kill anybody," retorted Mary frantically. "You can't take me back there, I won't go!" She tried to get up, but Thorn stopped her.
"No one is making you go anywhere, Mary, just relax," he said gently. "I'm going to find out what happened, and, in the meantime, I want you to stay right here with Clary. Promise me you won't try to run away again, because you are in danger, and I don't want anything to happen to you."
Mary looked doubtfully at him. "You really will help me? You will take me to the governor?"
"I promise, I will take you to the governor just as soon as I find out what's going on."
"Then I will stay here for now," she replied with a tremulous sigh.
"Promise me, Mary," growled Thorn.
"Si, I promise."
Thorn lifted her chin. "That's better. Now, you better keep that promise, little girl, because if I have to come looking for you because you break it, you won't like the consequences," he growled. Then he smiled at her encouragingly when her eyes flashed again. She looked like she wanted to sass him something fierce but she remained subdued and finally nodded her assent and turned away from him.
Clary hastily broke the silence. "Are you hungry, Mary? I have some food fixed in the kitchen, if you would like something to eat." She was as startled as Mary was when a sharp knock sounded o
n the door. The girl jumped behind Clary, her body trembling all over and her face going pale.
"Who is it?" squeaked Clary once again.
"Mr. Thorn, I have a message for you from the sheriff," called out Billy from the other side of the door.
They all breathed a sigh of relief, and Thorn motioned Clary towards the kitchen. "Keep Mary out of sight at all times, Clary, don't let anyone see her until I say it's okay."
Clary nodded and hustled Mary into the kitchen before Thorn opened the door to Billy. "What does he want, Billy?" he asked, only opening the door about a foot.
"I don't know, sir," replied Billy earnestly, but he wants to see you right away!"
Thorn fished in his pocket for two pennies and dropped them in Billy's outstretched hand. "I want you to go to Madame Fanny's, the front door, mind you, and tell Boxcar to meet me at the sheriff's office. Got it?"
Billy nodded eagerly, his blond straight hair swishing back and forth over his large blue eyes. "I'll go right now, Mr. Thorn!" And away he sped, as fast as his short legs could carry him. Thorn arched his eyebrow. "That kid's got a future in the pony express," he muttered. "Fast as a danged rabbit."
He stalked into the kitchen and flushed slightly when Clary handed him his faded red undershirt. "You enjoying this?" he asked silkily, noting the mischief in her eyes.
She choked back a laugh as she also handed him a sandwich filled with a couple of ham slabs and some pickle slices. She glanced at Mary, working hard on a sandwich, and then back at Thorn. "You have to admit, it is funny," she whispered.
"Ha ha," he retorted, taking her arm and pulling her into the living room. "Mary, I need to talk to Clary for a minute. You stay right there and don't get in front of any windows, you hear?" Mary just nodded and continued to eat as if she hadn't eaten in days.
Out of sight of Mary, Thorn pulled off his shirt, replaced his undershirt and then pulled his white shirt back on. It was then Clary noticed the badge. "What are you doing with the sheriff's badge?" she hissed in a whisper. "What's going on, Thorn?"
"Sheriff Holden has been shot and has a busted leg so I'm standing in for him for awhile," he replied, taking a big bite of the sandwich. "A couple of men busted up Fanny's place last night, and they were looking for a girl that they say killed and robbed a man at a whorehouse in El Paso, a few days ago. They want her bad enough to kill for her, and I'm thinking this might be the girl."
Clary's eyes opened wide, and she immediately protested, "Mary hasn't killed anybody, Thorn, just look at her! She's just a heartbroken young girl!"
"Keep your voice down," growled Thorn, looking towards the kitchen. "I don't think Mary killed anyone either, but being young doesn't mean you can't. Especially, if she's telling the truth about Ventermin selling her. But I'm more inclined to believe that her mother is the one who shot someone, in this instance."
"And with good reason," hissed Clary, her eyes flashing.
"I don't like leaving her here with you," replied Thorn uneasily. "Those men last night meant business, and it's my guess someone will be back. So stay out of sight and keep the shop closed for today."
Clary nodded. "No one has any reason to look for her here. I'll take care of her."
"I still don't like it. If not for Fanny last night, the one that got away would have killed the sheriff. I think there is more to this than a killing in a whorehouse."
Clary leaned into his broad chest and kissed him on his dimpled chin. "Why, Thorn, you are actually telling me something about one of your cases," she whispered triumphantly. Her hand slid lower, causing him to breathe deeply.
She felt so good against him that Thorn felt his body saluting her once again. "Behave yourself, brat," he growled, his sandwich free hand encircling her waist and holding her close. "I'm only telling you because you are involved right now, and I know what you'll do if you only have half the facts and have to guess the rest. I'll get her out of here as soon as I can, I don't want you in any more danger than necessary."
"I believe there is more to this, too," she added, letting her fingers slide up his stomach and chest with longing. "She totally refused to let me take her to you until I told her you worked for the governor. Whatever else is going on, she really wants to see him."
"I'll get it sorted out. In the meantime, take care of both of you and lock this door behind me, for sure." He smacked her sharply on the buttocks and then kissed her lips longingly before opening the door. The rest of his lunch would have to wait.
Thorn and Boxcar both arrived at the sheriff's office about the same time, Thorn still working on his sandwich.
"I see you finally got something to eat, old buddy," remarked Boxcar, as they stepped into the dim interior of the jailhouse. The sheriff was still sitting at his desk, and Charlie sat in a chair next to the cell hallway. But there were two men standing in the room that Thorn didn't recognize. He kept his eyes on them as the sheriff spoke.
"These men here are from El Paso, that's Bill and that's Henry," he said, waving his hand to first one man and then the other. "They say they are looking for a little red-headed gal named Mary Vargis. It appears she ran away from her stepfather, and he is very concerned about her." He held up a poster of Mary for them to see. "I reckon we'll put it on the wanted board, but I know I haven't seen her."
Thorn didn't even blink as the two men assessed his reaction at the announcement. "Why are you looking for her, and what makes you think she might be in Potluck?" he asked easily, perching on the corner of the sheriff's desk. He could see they weren't the type that had shot up Fanny's last night. They looked more like errand boys than gunslingers. Bill, the lanky one with the rounded derby style brown hat, rolled the brim around in his raw-boned hands. "There was a misunderstanding between her and her father," he replied stiffly. "Frank sent us to bring her back; it's dangerous for her to be out on her own. She's just a young girl."
"Who's Frank?" asked Boxcar, leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb.
Henry, the one with the balding pate and the graying strands of hair combed forward to hide it, supplied the quick answer, "Frank Ventermin." His mustache was overly large as if to make up for the lack of hair on his head, and it hung down below his lips, waggling as he spoke. "He owns The Tarnished Rose in El Paso."
"Ah, yes, that Frank," responded Boxcar smoothly. "I didn't know he had any family. Last I heard, he had a pretty senorita he used to slap around now and then, but I didn't know he got married." The disapproving glint in his eye wasn't lost on them.
The two men glanced uneasily at each other. Bill jammed the derby down on his head. "Don't know nothing about that, just know he sent us to get Mary and bring her home. We figure she followed that group of settlers and their families that left El Paso a few days ago. She didn't get on a stage, and that group was the only group that left around the time she disappeared. Besides, her palomino has a nick in his hind left shoe, and we found tracks like that mixed in with the other tracks headed west."
Thorn frowned. "Have you checked the stables to see if Bob has seen a horse like that? They aren't all that common."
"We did, Sheriff," piped up Henry, addressing Thorn. "But he said no one brought in a horse like that."
Boxcar choked down a snicker, and Thorn shot him an evil glare. "Did the group stay in town long?"
Holden threw his game leg up on the desk and cut in. "That group didn't come into town, except for a few men to get some supplies. The rest stayed outside of town and then moved on."
Thorn nodded impatiently. "Well, it stands to reason she left town with them, then."
"That's what we thought," Henry explained. "And we followed them and caught up with them, but they said they never seen no red-headed gal."Said a young boy had followed them from El Paso, and we found the horse tied to one of the wagons, but Mary wasn't there. Neither was the boy."
"Which brings us back to now, Sheriff," added Bill doggedly. "They also said there were a couple of other men looking for a red-headed gal, and they told them
the same thing they told us. We camped with the settlers last night, and they gave us back Mary's horse, and we backtracked to here. But I don't know who the other men were who were looking for Mary, and we don't know if they found her. We thought you might have heard something."
"Can't say as I have," mused Holden, leaning back in his chair. "But if we find out anything, I'll send a telegraph to Ventermin and let him know."
The men looked confused, glancing at each other. Finally, Bill cleared his throat. "Just which one of you is sheriff?" He looked from Thorn to Holden.
"I am," replied both men, and Boxcar chuckled when Thorn frowned at Holden. Thorn tipped his hat back and glared at Boxcar. "I'm the temporary sheriff until Holden here gets back on his feet," he declared.
Holden swatted at a droning fly, his face looking sour as the men left the jail. "I reckon I'll quit answerin' to Sheriff for now, but don't get used to it, Thorn."
Thorn gritted his teeth. He realized it was probably the closest thing he would get to an apology from the older man but it still annoyed him. "I never asked for this job, Holden, and I sure as hell don't want to keep it!"
The older man grunted and scratched the top of his leg around the wrapping. "So I don't think those two have anything to do with the two from last night, but I do think it's the same girl. So what the hell is going on?"
Thorn turned to Charlie, who was sitting there listening. Charlie was a good man, but he hadn't been a deputy very long. He was a good shot and knew how to handle himself in a fight, though, so Holden had hired him for lack of someone older and wiser. Green would the best word to describe his experience in the west so far. "Charlie, I want you to go to the telegraph office and have Melton send a telegraph to Sheriff Hamden in El Paso. Ask him what went on at The Tarnished Rose and why Mary Vargis ran away. Have him send Billy here with the reply as soon as he gets it."
"Yes, sir," replied Charlie, the feet of his chair hitting the floor. His brown eyes were eager as he grabbed his hat off the hook by the door and left the office.
The Heart of Mary: A Thorn Novel Page 5
