Jake nodded, knowing how here, where copper was transported out at nearly twenty thousand dollars a day, the Mine he referred to was the Butte Mining Company, which sometimes was also called the Company. The titles for the mining company made sense, since it was the largest moneymaking manufacturer in the whole territory. Hell, Jake had heard the Company made more money than anything west of the Mississippi, although he wasn’t sure what the idiom meant in exact terms.
“He done something in your neck of the woods?” Henderson’s drawl seemed to draw out any sentence into a two-hour long speech.
“He’s suspected of following a woman.”
Henderson’s graying bushy brows furrowed. He’d taken his hat off for this meeting, as had Jake. And Henderson had an eerie resemblance to a badger—with harsh black hair and two strips of white through it. And now, the badger bristled.
“Damn,” Henderson whispered. “I worried as much.”
“He ever lurked after a woman here?”
“No—I mean, well...he yells at the whores, calls them names.”
“That Bruisner you talking about, Sheriff?” A reedy feminine voice called out from one of the jail cells.
Most of the inmates were men—miners sleeping off a good time, more than likely. But in one cell, closer to the sheriff’s desk, there were four women with too much rouge on their roughened cheeks, their coaled eyes smeared. Jake always felt immense guilt when faced with a prostitute. Although he’d never paid for one, he always felt responsible for them, wishing he could help them retire, find stability within their community. And because he never had, the remorse sometimes swallowed him whole.
“Yeah,” Henderson yelled over his shoulder. “This here is the new sheriff of a town close to Great Falls. Sorry, what you say the name of it was?”
“Plateau.”
“Mmm.” The woman who had been throwing food suddenly jumped up and raced to the cell’s bars, looking intently at Jake. “He’s got a nice voice. Deep. Where’s Plateau? Maybe I could visit you sometime.”
“Got a woman of my own, miss,” Jake said.
“Oh, too bad.” She pouted.
“Gladys, stop it.” Henderson swiveled his chair a little more her direction, a salt-and-pepper brow arched.
The woman took a step away from the bars, but licked her lips in a way Jake supposed he should have found desirable. But he sighed, feeling the imprint of his broken heart all the more. He didn’t have a woman actually. He had...not a lot.
But he did have a job to do. For now.
“Bruisner pursue you? Mayhap lurk after ye in a threatening way?” Jake asked, noting his voice was rather low, gruff sounding too. It was to cover his unbearable heartache. He really had no clue what he was doing any longer, but he was doing it nonetheless. Mayhap after the talk with the sheriff and prostitutes, he’d get drunk and think of heading somewhere else.
Gladys shook her head, then turned to another prostitute lying on the straw pallet in their cell. “That weasel Bruisner ever chase after you, Phyllis?”
The skinny, dirty woman sat up slightly, shook her head, then turned over, her back to everyone. Over her shoulder, she said, “He called me every name there is though.”
Gladys nodded. “Yeah, he called me bitch and jezebel and cun—”
“All right now, Gladys.” Henderson interrupted.
She smiled, clearly enjoying making the older sheriff uncomfortable. “What? I’m just repeating what the man said.”
“Bruisner ever get violent with you?” Jake asked, trying to get to the point.
She stepped closer to her bars again, her smile still in place and turned upwards more on one corner. “Your woman’s lucky. That’s for sure. You got a nice look on you. Nice, like your voice.”
In the large room there wasn’t much light, and Jake knew there was even less of it around him. He guessed she couldn’t see his scars. Once she did, she’d recoil and probably have a few names she’d call him to boot.
“Gladys, answer the man’s questions.”
“Of course, I will.” She smoothed one of her petticoats down, the rough fabric making scratching noises in the process. Wearing a dark shift and corset and those petticoats, she must have been freezing. There were blankets piled in the cell. Mayhap they were pest infested, Jake wondered, trying to figure out why she wasn’t more clothed.
She smiled, then suddenly lost her grin altogether. “I didn’t recall until just now, but, no, Bruisner’s never been violent to me. But—”
“But?” Jake asked.
She frowned. He saw, even from the distance of fifteen feet away, her eyes were bright green and lucid. As well as suddenly filled with fury. “He never hurt me. But one day the Mine hired a geologist woman. Can you believe a woman can become a geologist? Anyhow, she was here to test the dirt or some such nonsense. She was really nice, actually. She smiled at me. That’s why I remember it so clearly.”
“Gladys, get to the God damned point.” Henderson huffed.
She furrowed her painted eyebrows. “I am. Don’t you understand, Sheriff? A lady like that, being nice to me is—is—well, it’s rare. So I was watching her eat at the hotel she was staying at, wonderin’ about her, when in walks Bruisner. I saw the whole thing from outside the hotel. They wouldn’t let me in without a paying customer.”
“And?” Henderson sounded as though he was losing his patience.
“And Bruisner stood at her table a long time, conversing. He had that smile of his on his fake face. I hate admitting how handsome he is, but he is. But it’s all fake, you know? Too much pomade too. So I’s watchin’ him. He keeps smiling down at the lady eating. She’s getting more and more upset. It’s clear. She put her hands on her lap suddenly, her face all mad like. Then she says something loud to him. I can’t remember all of it, but I remember her face and how she said, ‘how dare you.’ Bruisner said something more. He smiled even wider. Happier. Finally, the barkeep comes over and asks Bruisner to leave. But...”
“But?” Jake asked again.
The woman suddenly turned sad. She shrugged. “I left soon after, and now I recall that Bruisner never did leave the hotel. He was on the street watching her. I heard how the geologist lady left town the next day in a hurry. Someone said she was crying.”
“He hurt her,” the woman on the pallet spoke. Her voice was bereft. Nay, it was dead. There was hardly a shred of emotion as if she were merely parsing about the price of oranges in South Carolina. “Mary was at the hotel with that mayor of ours. Said she heard screaming that night, and Bruisner left the hotel with claw marks on his face. That man hurt her, hurt that little woman geologist.”
“Now, why in the hell didn’t you say anything?” Henderson’s voice was rough.
The woman on the pallet shot up faster than Jake thought she could, and he realized she was much younger than her voice, the sorrow plain in her colorless face and lifeless eyes.
“Like you’d do anything, Sheriff. Like you’d do anything when a woman’s hurt.”
“The hell I wouldn’t.” Sheriff Henderson stood suddenly, holding his red suspenders. “I recollect that geologist woman. I would have protected the lady.”
“The hell you would!” Phyllis yelled. “All you men are alike. You only want one thing from a woman. If you can’t force her to be your whore by making her your wife, you’ll make her another way. That woman was something, you know? She was special. Educated. And all you men want to do is make her a whore. You’ll force her, if she doesn’t bend to your will. And Bruisner was just doing what all of you dream to do. Force a woman to submit, force her to whore herself.”
Jake swallowed.
Perspective. He finally got it after hearing the young woman’s speech. Granted, things weren’t right as rain for him. But he wasn’t that poorly off. He could go back to Meredith and try again.
Sheriff Henderson blustered. But Jake held his palm out to the man. Instantly, everyone quieted. Jake glanced back at the very young Phyllis. She might have
barely been six and ten years of age, blonde, pretty blue eyes shrouded in pain and resentment. He didn’t blame her for it. He’d probably had a hell of a lot grander life than she.
“The woman Bruisner lurked after in my area is educated too,” he spoke softly, nodding while he talked. “Very educated. Spirited.”
“He hurt her too?” Phyllis’s voice softened as well.
Jake shook his head and stood. “I’m going to stop him before he does.” He focused on Henderson.
The older sheriff returned to his chair, narrowing his eyes at Jake. “If I see him first?”
“Tell me ifnye do. I need to ask him some questions.”
Henderson glanced over at Phyllis for a second, then down to the floor. He let loose a long sigh, his shoulders stooping. “You’ll be the first to know if he shows his face.”
Phyllis visibly straightened and turned her back once more to everyone. She wrapped her arms around her thin frame, and Jake saw her fingers enveloping around her arms. He’d come back for her, once she served her time for whatever crime she’d done. Whoring wasn’t illegal here. But once Phyllis was done with the jail, he would take her away from Butte. He didn’t have much money, but he’d give her all he had. Help her settle in a nice area, like Plateau, where she would be treated fairly and with decency.
Now that Jake had a plan, the hole in his heart didn’t ache so much. Ah, hell, who was he kidding? It was killing him, Meredith’s rejection. But at least he could do something good in this life he’d been given.
Chapter 18
All that bravado left Jake when he realized he had no clue how to find Bruisner now. Waiting was never easy, and he had a job back in Plateau. He missed Meredith so much he thought he was losing marrow in his bones. They felt achingly weak. Skipping every other stair, he headed into the hotel’s lobby, thinking about eating. But it was right at noon, and a crowd of people swallowed the anteroom to the restaurant. Sighing, for he never liked being in a throng, he decided to head to his room when his eye caught on a most decidedly tiny woman.
She wore expensive purplish silk, her dress swirled the way the ladies of the day wore it, gathered here, puffed there. It was tucked around her wee waist, reflecting the woman’s curves. Curves he knew intimately. Meredith.
Lord, how he wanted to race to her. How he wanted her in his arms and to feel her little body against his. Rip those clothes off, for she was his earthy fae, best naked or with a loose sheet, revealing her like a present.
But there she stood, talking to a man.
As Jake’s heart smashed into his ribs, he watched the intense way they spoke to each other. He couldn’t see the visage of the fellow, but his back and side. He had more than a foot over Meredith, and there was power through his chest and shoulders, the way military men sometimes carried it. Then Jake finally noticed his coloring—the blackest of black hair. His heart beat triple time then, for the man resembled Thomas, his younger brother.
Were they here to surprise him? His woman and his family had found him at long last? His eyes felt as though sand gathered in them, his throat closed.
Then the man turned revealing more of his face. Not Thomas.
Jake’s heart collapsed. He found it difficult to stand with the weight of what had just happened.
Some woman squealed and threw herself into the man’s arms. He smiled broadly, welcomingly, holding a tall blonde. Meredith grinned bashfully then dipped her gaze to the thickly red-carpeted floor. Slowly, so slowly her eyes caught his. Like an idiot, he hadn’t moved since he’d had the stupid thought his family would be searching for him, that his woman would be here for...him.
She appeared to shuffle toward him. The noonday’s light streaked through, the way the winter sun can with fragile rays, but somehow all of them found her bonny face, illuminating her, ensuring him she really was here. Turning enough to look straight at him, he saw a cut along her lips, a bruise on her jaw stained Meredith’s otherwise perfect creamy with golden freckles complexion.
Moving without thought, he raced to her. She’d been hurt. And that was all he thought of.
His hand cradled her cheek carefully, while he examined her injury. “What happened?”
“Um, Meredith?” the blonde woman asked protectively.
When he’d touched her, she had nuzzled into his hand, closing her gorgeous purple eyes, her dark, glossy lashes casting shadows over her cheeks. But now her lids shuttered open. She held his hand, moving it away from her soft visage.
Smiling, she said, “This is Jake.”
The tall blonde raked her gaze over him, scrutinizing the whole time. Then her lips curled up at the ends. “He’s handsome.”
The man whose arm was still around the blonde scowled at her.
She merely giggled, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re very handsome, husband of mine.”
He grinned again, then studied Jake too. “This is the man you two Calamity Janes have been hunting?” His accent was undeniably English. Smooth like an aristocrat. Jake forced himself not to bristle.
Granted, at one time he’d idealized English officers who happened upon MacKay country, but after Cromwell...even with two hundred years between the Rump Parliamentary usurpation and now, he was hard pressed not to instantly recoil at such an accent.
However, Meredith made it easy to forget, as a blush grew along her cheeks.
“You know Calamity Jane?” the blonde woman asked with a reverent whisper.
The man pointedly looked at Jake with a nervous smile. “My wife doesn’t think I keep current of the times.”
Jake had heard whispers about a Calamity Jane, but, hell, there were more myths and legends of the West than there seemed to be real people.
“I, er, right.” The blonde smiled at him. “I’m Erva and this is Will. We’re friends of Meredith’s.”
Jake wondered about their surnames, why the introduction was so...intimate, but held out his hand. Social dictates and all. He might have been a bit rough shaking the Englishman’s hand, but when he swooped in and kissed Erva’s, when she giggled, his sour disposition eroded somewhat.
“You’re fawning over the man,” Will said with a teasing glint in his eyes directed at his wife.
She giggled again, then smiled at Meredith. “I like him.”
Meredith softly chuckled herself, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Even though she still held his hand, it wasn’t enough for Jake. And although he knew the Englishman was devoted to his wife, Jake’s jealousy had flared to life, and he felt an overwhelming need to claim Meredith as his own. What that claiming looked like he didn’t know. Perhaps he’d barbarically throw his woman over his shoulder and stomp back to his hotel room? The idea had merit, he thought.
But then glancing down at his wee fae, the bruise along her jaw, the cut in the corner of her lips, she’d been hurt and had yet to explain what had happened.
“I think we should leave these two alone to talk,” Erva said.
“Yes,” Will agreed. “And I should take you away from the man before you fawn even more over him.”
“Jealous, my darling?” She turned more towards Will. They were creating a cocoon of space betwixt the two of them, and Jake knew he was jealous. He wanted that with Meredith, but the last words she’d spoken to him suddenly taunted him: I never want to see you again.
“When it comes to you, darling, always.” Will smiled, bowing slightly to Meredith and Jake. “So nice to meet the two of you, but I fear I must take my wife away now. I’ve rented a hotel room. 2B. Shall we meet again, have dinner in a few hours?”
Meredith opened her mouth, then looked at Jake. “Would you like to have dinner with us?”
He was confused, angry, a bit melancholy, and so happy all at once. He had no idea why Meredith was here, her injuries, but they did need to talk. She needed to clarify why she would spurn him and now hold his hand as if she’d never let it go. He needed to tell her of his intentions.
Jake gave a quick nod.
�
�Lovely.” Will beamed then reached down and swung his wife in his arms, while she tittered. “You, missy, have some ‘splaining to do,” he said with an odd Spanish accent.
Erva squealed again. “Ricky Ricardo! I love I Love Lucy! Do it again.”
Will laughed.
“Um, Erva,” Meredith called out.
Will wheeled about, still holding onto his wife.
Meredith blushed even more, then whispered, “Coyote.”
“Oh.” Erva nodded, then looked at her husband. “Put me down for a sec.”
He carefully released her back to her feet, his black brows furrowed.
Erva smiled at Jake nervously, then stood very close to Meredith, their skirts touching. Looking down at Meredith’s legs, she said, “I have a room for you and ordered a juicy steak with potatoes. Come with me so Meredith can talk to Jake alone.”
A muffled groan was emitted from under Meredith’s skirts, then Jake saw a dog’s tail flit from under one skirt to the next.
“He’s under your skirt?” Will asked incensed.
“Got a better idea how to conceal a coyote in a hotel?” Erva said defiantly.
“But he’s under your skirt.”
“He’s been good. The perfect protector. Right, Meredith?”
Meredith nodded enthusiastically.
Will rolled his eyes. He turned more to Jake with a huff. “Welcome to our merry madness, by the by.”
Something about what Will had said made Meredith stiffen. Ah, yes, the nickname of hers, Mad Mere. Lord, he and Meredith had a lot to say to each other.
“Will.” His wife pursed her lips. “Meredith and Jake need to talk.”
“Right. Right.” He smiled at Meredith then Jake. “Dinner it is. See you then.”
Meredith nodded and so did Jake, not having a clue what had just happened.
When the couple took their leave, ascending the winding stairs to the hotel rooms, Meredith turned and stepped closer to Jake.
“I—I have so much to tell you.”
He nodded. “Ye have a coyote as a pet? Ye speak in codes? What was the ‘I love I love Lucy?’“
Cowboy of Mine Page 21
