Buddy set the mug down and shoved it away with one finger. “That’s what it is, all right. I should know. I’ve swallowed buckets of it. I don’t reckon I’ll drink another for the rest of my natural life.” He shuddered and turned from the bar. “How did you find me?”
“We weren’t planning to look in here, I can tell you that.” Jerry flashed his teeth and nodded. “Though it’s a good thing we did. We were headed to the hotel next door. I remembered staying there the last time we came to town.”
The lady elbowed past Jerry. “Gentlemen, please. We have no time for idle chatter.” She held out her hand. “Mr. Pierce, my name is Emily Dane. I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you.”
He nodded and returned the gesture. “So you’re Emily. I might’ve guessed.” While he couldn’t imagine a man letting go of a woman like Charity Bloom, the sight of the pretty little thing before him answered a few hard questions about Daniel Clark.
Buddy’s gaze traveled from Emily to Jerry then to Nash. He leaned to rest his elbows on the bar, amused by the improbable grouping. “So what’s going on here? Where did you three meet up, and what in tarnation are you doing in Houston?”
Emily’s expression was grave. “We came to find you, Mr. Pierce. I have a matter of utmost importance to discuss.”
Buddy smiled and winked at Jerry. “In that case, you’d best call me Buddy.”
She held his gaze. “All right, then ... Buddy.”
His grin widened. “Well, go ahead. Say what you traveled all this way to tell me. You have my undivided attention.”
She wasted no time getting to the point. “Charity’s in trouble and you’re the only one who can help her.”
Buddy bolted upright. His head reeled, his stomach churned, and it had nothing to do with the sarsaparilla. At least he didn’t think so. “What kind of trouble?”
Emily’s sober expression revealed little emotion, but her bright eyes blazed. “She’s about to marry Daniel Clark.”
His heart eased and he slumped on the bar stool, wholly defeated. “Miss Dane, I’m afraid you came all this way to tell me what I already know. Forgive my boldness, but you and I are the only poor souls who find that news disquieting.” He spun on his heel. “Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She clutched his arm. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Pierce. Charity’s plenty disquieted. She may be set to marry Daniel, but she’s in love with you.”
Buddy twisted to look over his shoulder. “What did you say?”
“It’s true. Trust me. I heard it from a reliable source.”
“Then why?”
“I’ll cut straight through the fat. Charity has to be married by day’s end tomorrow or Bertha loses her home to Shamus Pike. She felt she had no choice but to marry whoever was handy, so she hoodwinked Daniel and got him to propose. You weren’t there, and she feared you wouldn’t make it back in time.”
“But I was there.”
“I know. I watched Daniel drive you out of town.”
Buddy flushed at her rebuke. “Didn’t you tell her?”
Emily lowered her eyes. “She’s not exactly speaking to me just now.” Then she raised her head, her expression fierce. “I figured it would mean more to her if I show up with you by my side.”
“You don’t think Daniel said anything?”
Emily sneered. “What do you think?”
“But I gave him a saddlebag full of money for Bertha. Didn’t he give it to her?”
“No, and he won’t until after the wedding or they’ll know you came back. That’s information he’ll play close to his chest until Charity says, ‘I will,’ tomorrow.”
Tomorrow! The word caused a jolt to his middle. He stood, tall and determined. “Charity won’t be saying, ‘I will,’ to Daniel ever, if I have anything to say about it.” He turned and counted out money onto the bar then strode past Emily toward the door.
Jerry called to him, but it didn’t slow him down. Outside on the boardwalk, Jerry burst out of the saloon behind him, his voice frantic. “Buddy, wait up. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have a train to catch.”
“Not tonight, you don’t.”
Something in the way he said it made Buddy stop and turn. Jerry ran into him. Emily and Nash weren’t far behind.
“Why don’t I?”
“We came in on the last run from Humble, that’s why. There won’t be another one out until tomorrow morning.”
Buddy glanced around at their faces. When Emily nodded, he continued down the boardwalk with the three of them fast on his heels.
Jerry ran to catch up. “Slow up a mite, big fella. What do you aim to do?”
“I aim to hire me a horse and ride to Humble.”
“Aw, Buddy! Now you have me wondering if sarsaparilla is all you’ve had to drink. Riding to Humble is a foolhardy idea. By the time you can get there, the whole town will be rolled up for the night.”
He whipped around. “I have to see Charity.”
“What for? To wake her up?”
“Then I’ll go see Clark first and set him straight.”
Nash’s eyes widened. “No, suh. That’ll just land you in irons.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do what I need to if it’ll stop that marriage.”
Emily tugged on Buddy’s shirt. “The wedding’s not until noon tomorrow, if that helps.”
Buddy knew she meant to comfort him, but the words caused a band to tighten around his head. “Miss Dane, if you’ll take a closer look at our situation, you’ll realize that’s not much time.” He freed his shirtsleeve from her fingertips and hastened down the boardwalk.
The livery was shut up tight and padlocked when they arrived. Buddy grasped his head and moaned then pounded on the doors until the proprietor stepped out of a side entrance with a large key ring dangling from his hand.
“Sorry, folks. We’re closed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Buddy hustled his direction with Jerry and Nash on his heels. “Sir, this won’t take much of your time. I need a horse right away.”
Emily crowded in between them. “He means four horses.”
Keys jingling, the pale, scrawny man scratched his armpit. “Yep. You and half of Houston. I ain’t got none available. Might have a couple in the morning though.”
Buddy shifted his weight to peer between the cracks in the boards. “I can’t wait that long. You must have something in there I could ride.”
“Something we could ride,” Emily corrected, bobbing and weaving beside him, trying to see inside the stable.
The liveryman sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He regarded Emily as if trying to guess her weight. “I got one broken-down nag. She’s along in years and swaybacked. Couldn’t handle anyone heavier than this little gal here.”
All eyes swung to Emily. Her throat worked up and down, but she took a bold step forward. “We’ll take her.”
Buddy held up his hand. “What good will that do?”
She frowned her opinion of his question. “I could ride ahead and tell Charity you’re coming.”
Nash chuckled. “That old mare gon’ wind up riding you into town.”
Jerry grinned. “We’ll wave at you in the morning as our train passes you by.”
Buddy steeled his jaw. “It’s out of the question, Miss Dane. Too dangerous.”
Nash sobered. “He’s right, Miss Emmy. I cain’t let you do it.”
The liveryman finished locking the side door then leaned against the wall. “Sure wish I could help.”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Buddy said. “Maybe you still can. Do you know anyone who might be willing to sell me a horse? I’m willing to pay handsomely.”
The old fellow’s eyes lit. He pointed behind him. “Like I said, I got this mare—” After a glance at Buddy’s scowl, he shrugged. “Sorry, mister.”
“That’s the best you can do?”
“Haven’t you looked around? This town’s gone mad since they struck
oil in Humble. Makes a man wish he had a hundred horses. Even then, I don’t guess I’d have any for you folks tonight.”
Buddy had heard of men keeling over from grievous frustration. Thankfully, they were much older, or the rate of his heartbeat would concern him. He hit the wall with a balled-up fist, rattling the doors and arousing a muffled whinny from the lone horse inside. “Blast it! Now what?”
They all stared at him with startled faces. The liveryman took a broad step in the other direction.
Emily gripped his shoulder. “We’ll think of something, Mr. Pierce.”
Without waiting to hear what the pretty lady’s something might be, Buddy tore off down the street.
Jerry rushed to get in front of him, walking backwards while he talked. “Listen, Buddy, the train pulls out at dawn tomorrow. You can rest tonight and still make it in plenty of time. That makes more sense than riding hard all night and arriving bushed. What do you say to that?”
Buddy slowed his stride, considering Jerry’s suggestion. “I don’t think so.”
Emily nodded toward Jerry. “He’s right, Mr. Pierce. Something could happen to you on the trail at night. You could be ambushed or your horse might break a leg. Then you’d never make it in time to save Charity.”
He stopped walking. “That’s the first thing anyone has said that makes sense.”
“Besides,” she continued, “you don’t know what you’ll be walking into when you get there. You’ll want to be fresh and clear-minded.”
Buddy’s gaze traveled from Emily to Jerry then back to Emily. “None of it sits well with me, but it appears I have no choice.”
Jerry slapped him on the back. “Now you’re talking. Let’s see the lady tucked in for the night and go get us some shut-eye.”
Shut-eye was the last thing Buddy would get with every muscle twitching to get back to Charity. “I plan to be the first man on that train in the morning. You hear?”
Despite Jerry’s smaller size and Buddy’s dragging feet, Jerry hustled him down the boardwalk toward the hotel. Emily ran alongside, panting from the effort to keep up, and Nash lumbered along behind them. Inside, Buddy arranged rooms for the three of them and inquired about shelter for Nash.
At the door to Emily’s room, she reached to touch Buddy’s arm. “Mr. Pierce, you won’t leave without me tomorrow, will you?”
Buddy met her haunting blue eyes. “I don’t mind you stringing along, Miss Dane, but I won’t wait for you. I suggest you arrive at the station on time if you plan on riding into Humble with me.” He tipped his hat. “Good night now.”
He left her staring after him and made his way down the hall to his room.
CHAPTER 26
A single moonbeam, slipping through a broken slat in the shade, bored behind Daniel’s eyelids. He pitched and tossed on the wide bed, trying in vain to escape the pesky glow. Not that the amount of light in his room had changed. He’d lost his talent for sleeping through a hurricane. The air was heavy and hot, insufferably so, but he dozed at last, until sweat trickled past his ear, tickling him awake. Stirring, he cursed and punched the lumpy pillow into submission before flopping over onto his stomach.
Charity came to him then. She hovered over the bed and whispered through pouting red lips, so close her soft breath in his ear raised gooseflesh on his neck. He rolled onto his back and her long dark hair fell over him, caressing his face, his chest. He could smell her skin, taste her breath as she drew closer. Ecstatic, he reached to encircle her waist with his arms, convinced she was there.
His pounding heart jerked him awake and Charity was gone, her vivid presence replaced by deep loneliness, his faithful companion for much of the night.
Why had he excused himself and gone up to bed early? So far sleep had eluded him, and now, after the dream, there was no hope of rest.
He sat up on the side of the bed. When his bare toes hit the floor, it gave him a shock to realize the room he thought stifling hot was in fact quite nippy. Straining to reach it with his heel, he dragged a sock beneath his feet. Only his feet were cold. In the predawn chill, his stirring blood continued to warm his body and torture his mind.
He would have to get up. There was no help for it, though it made him frustrated and angry with himself. He needed sleep. The day that lay before him would be taxing enough with a rested body.
He had decided to tell his parents about the wedding, but only at the last minute on his way out the door. If they were willing to accept Charity, if they wanted to witness the marriage of their only son, they would be welcome to ride with him to the church. That prospect warmed his heart.
The other possibility scared him witless. His parents could very likely disown him today, shun him, and strip him of his inheritance. If so, it would be his mama’s doing, but Papa would go along with her to keep the peace.
Daniel grimaced. If that’s how things went, then blast them both! He didn’t need them. He’d proven that. And Charity was worth it. He would lose anything to gain her. Why hadn’t he realized that before? At any rate, he would face heaven and earth—worse, his mama’s wrath—to take a stand for her today.
He shivered. Whether chilled by his thoughts or the icy floor he couldn’t tell, but the cold had started to penetrate his body. He turned up the lamp in order to locate his other sock and smiled when he discovered he’d slept with it wadded among the covers. He reached for the one under his feet, pulled them both on, and then crossed the room to stand before the tall, mirrored wardrobe.
Peering closer, he rubbed his stubbled chin. “Funny, you don’t look like a groom,” he muttered to his rumpled reflection. “Look sharp, old boy. Today’s your wedding day.”
The words broke the spell. The bleak mood that had hovered through the night lifted, and Daniel had to laugh at the simpleton grinning at him from the mirror.
He would hurry and dress, then pack the rest of his clothes and hide them with the other belongings he’d stashed in the buckboard. After that, he would get started on his chores. It was too early yet to feed the stock, but there were things he could do, tasks done so many times he could manage them in the dark.
Stunned, Daniel realized it was the last time the responsibility would be his. Overseeing his father’s property would fall to someone else tomorrow because Daniel would have chores of his own. From now on, the affairs of his house, his and Charity’s, would occupy his time. The thought brought a thrill that shot right through him and roared in his ears.
He eased from his room, pausing to peer down the hall toward his parents’ bedroom. No light shone from beneath the door and no sound came from within. He tiptoed past, mindful of the squeaky boards, and headed for the landing.
A hearty yawn watered his eyes as he descended the stairs, sleepy at last. Smiling, he shook it off. Too late now. Any rest he got would have to come later, after Charity became his bride.
***
“Come on, Miss Emmy, this ain’t no Sunday stroll. You best hurry now or you gon’ be chasing that train down the track.”
“For pity’s sake, Nash, I’m coming.” Out of breath, Emmy strained to close the gap between them. “No one in God’s creation can keep up with your gait, much less a body saddled with my short legs. I’m doing the best I can.”
Despite the weight of both their bags, Nash breezed along ahead of her, still a good distance away until he stopped short to stare. “You best hush all that fussing and save your breath for running. That train’s coming now. I can see it.”
The sun glinted off a speck of metal in the distance, and a thin plume of smoke spiraled into the air. Emmy picked up her pace, turning her attention to the station platform. “Do you see Mr. Pierce and Mr. Ritter?”
“Not yet, I don’t. Ain’t likely to, neither, what with all these folks flocking around. I reckon we won’t see them two men again ’til after we’s boarded. Maybe not even ’til we get home.”
Emmy’s eyes lit on a rumpled head of brightly colored hair. “Oh, but you’re wrong.” She pointed tow
ard the far edge of the platform. “There’s Mr. Ritter now.”
They pushed through to where the young man stood craning his neck at the crowd. When he saw them, he flushed with pleasure and waved frantically until they reached his side.
“Where’s Buddy?” Emmy asked, only to hear her question parroted back. She stared up at him. “What do you mean where’s Buddy? Isn’t he with you?”
Mr. Ritter gaped at her, his face a picture of her own confusion. “I thought he was with you.”
The first flicker of panic flashed in Emmy’s chest. Heart racing, she studied the melee around them. “Well, he must be here somewhere.”
Mr. Ritter shook his head. “I was one of the first men on the platform this morning. I’ve watched every person come and go since.”
“You must be mistaken. He was so determined to catch this train.”
The words were hardly free of her mouth when the big engine roared into the station, belching black smoke in rhythmic blasts. The mob surged toward it in one massive heave, bumping and jostling Emmy as they shoved past. She sought Buddy in the swirling sea of faces and then remembered Nash, who stood head and shoulders above the rest. She tugged at his sleeve. “Do you see him, Nash?”
“No, Miss Emmy. I don’t see hide nor hair of Mistah Pierce.”
“Oh, do look harder. He must be here. If he’s not, then...”
“Something’s wrong,” Mr. Ritter finished for her. “Come on, let’s go.”
Emmy fell in behind the men as they raced down the near-empty boardwalk, headed for the hotel. Despite the early hour, Mr. Ritter paused to peer into the saloon. From what Emmy could see, there wasn’t much going on in the shadows behind the swinging doors, and Buddy was nowhere in sight.
The long-legged rascals ran ahead of Emmy, leaving her trailing behind. Inside the shabby hotel lobby, she saw Mr. Ritter already on the stairs with Nash right behind him. She glanced at the clerk, prepared to hear him raise a fuss about Nash going upstairs, but some matter in the other direction held his attention. Emmy heaved a sigh of relief before raising the hem of her skirt and barreling after the two men. She caught up with them just outside Buddy’s room.
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