How dare he? Mabel stalked up to the boy’s uncle and glared at him. “There is room for everyone in God’s house, sir. Even you.”
She felt a presence behind her, solid and comforting. Samuel.
“I believe that what my sweet Mabel is saying is that you’ll want to take that mouth of yours elsewhere, before it lands you in a jail cell.”
Howard turned purple. His right hand shifted toward the gun on his hip.
Sheriff Phillips cleared his throat. “I told the boy and I’m tell you, Stevens. Dueling is illegal in my town.”
“One more day, boy. Then you come home with me.” Howard turned abruptly and stomped out of the sheriff’s office, slamming the door behind him.
“Miss Mabel, I hope that…is it…do you mind if…”
“Jean, thank you so much for coming to my wedding. Would you mind escorting Mikey to the church?”
Jean let out a whoosh of air. “I’d love to.”
She turned to Samuel. “I’m ready.”
He grinned back at her. “I can see that.”
The wedding was a simple affair, and all the churchgoers stayed for the reception. Everyone had brought food to share. A small band played music after the meal, and people began dancing.
Stuffed with delicious food, Mabel sighed as she watched her new husband from across the way. He stood with his fellow lawmen, laughing and joking. In the yard outside, Mikey played a game of kick the rock with some other boys around his age.
Jean, on the other hand, sat by herself, looking uncomfortable.
Mabel hurried over to join her. But before she could speak, a woman in a dress that seemed to be made entirely of pink flounces sashayed up to them.
“I’m Emma Lou, and I’m the head of our ladies group here at the church and I’d love for you to join us.” Her head turned to Jean and Jean dropped hers. “Jean? How’d you like to join us too?”
Jean picked her head up and smiled. “Really?”
Emma Lou nodded.
Mabel and Jean said at the same time, “I’d love to!”
Emma Lou laughed. “Next Tuesday evening after supper.”
Samuel broke from the pack of men, Mabel in his sights. When he reached her, he bowed with a flourish.
“Might I have the pleasure of this dance, Mrs. Cruz?”
Mabel curtsied elaborately, laughing at the surprise on his face. Then she took his hand. He put his hand on her waist, a touch that was somehow both intimate and comforting. She let free hand rest lightly on his shoulder.
She looked into his eyes as he moved her around and around to the music. There was so much going on in those eyes.
“You dance well,” Mabel said.
“This is the only dance I know.” He twirled her, then pulled her close again. “So I hope it’s your favorite.”
“It is now.” On impulse, she kissed his cheek. He flushed, missed a step.
When the song ended, Samuel kept his arm around her waist and gently guided her outside, where the children played some game whose rules Mabel couldn’t decipher. But they were hooting and laughing, even Mikey.
“Wouldn’t it be something if we could do more than one day’s worth of happiness for him?” Samuel asked.
Mabel smiled and looked up at him. “Would it even be possible?”
He shook his head. “His uncle would have to agree. Mikey would have to agree too.”
“I was so surprised that Jean stepped in to help him. She barely knows the boy.” Mabel sighed. “And I can’t say that I approve of the way she did it, but her heart is good.”
“We can’t exploit her to help the child. It’s not right,” Samuel said with a frown. “You might have just raised her hopes for nothing, inviting her to church like this.”
“She can change, Samuel. She just joined the ladies church group, just so you know. And I plan to speak with her about finding other means of employment as soon as possible. She just needs a little help.”
Samuel laughed and planted a kiss he placed on top of her head. “You’re about to turn this town on its ear aren’t you, Mrs. Cruz?”
“Only the parts that need turning, Mr. Cruz.”
Chapter 4
Mabel and Samuel were saying their goodbyes when Mabel spotted Jean taking off alone towards the saloon. She took a few quick steps and called out, “Jean, can you wait a second?”
Jean stopped and turned back. “Sure, Mabel.”
Mabel caught up to the young woman and asked, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your protecting Mikey by distracting his uncle. I’m worried for you, though. He’s not a nice man.”
“I overheard him talking about what he was going to do to the poor boy and it made me feel awful for the kid.”
“If he—“
“I’ll be careful.” Jean twisted part of her skirt around one finger. “The Madame keeps laudanum handy for troublesome customers. I’ll slip a dose into Howard’s whiskey tonight, and he’ll sleep until morning.”
“No one’s ever caught on?”
“If they do, Rufus throws them out.”
“Jean, if there’s anything I can do to help you, anything at all, you must ask.”
“If there’s a way that the sheriff could arrest that man, I wouldn’t be sad to see him locked up.”
“He’s working on it,” Mabel assured.
Mabel fixed some sandwiches for Samuel’s lunch and placed them in a basket as Mikey stared gloomily out the front window. “He should’ve been here by now, Miss Mabel. Not that I want to go with him, but he doesn’t even seem to want me.”
Mabel’s heart ached, and she took a sandwich and a glass of milk to the boy and sat by his side. “Here, eat this.”
Her heartache intensified when he started to wolf the sandwich down, as if she was afraid she’d take it back.
“I’m sure your mother is very proud of you, Mikey,” she said.
He stopped and looked at her. “That’s why I have to keep my promise to her.”
“If she loved you, she wouldn’t want you to kill someone or get killed yourself because of a promise you made her when you were so sad.”
He took another bite, then a big drink of milk. “You didn’t know her.”
“True, I didn’t. But I know how I would feel if you were my son.” Which was how she already did feel. As if Mikey were her son.
“She said a man keeps his promises, no matter what. My Da never did, he lied all the time. My word is the only thing that makes me better than him.”
That was why the boy refused to give up. He had to prove that he was better than his father.
There must be another way for him to do that besides dueling with Samuel.
Mabel got up and went back to preparing Samuel’s lunch, still thinking about how she could help the boy. Mikey finished the last of his meal. “Is it okay if I go tell those boys at the wedding goodbye?”
“Yes, then back to the sheriff’s office with you. I’ll meet you there.”
She gathered up the basket she’d packed for Samuel and headed out.
He beamed at her the second she walked through the door, hurrying to kiss her cheek and take the basket from her.
“I’ve missed you,” she said as she smiled up at him. “Will you be home for supper?”
“I plan to. Did the Stevens man pick up Mikey yet?” He began digging through the basket to see what she’d made him.
Mabel leaned on the desk. “No, and they boy doesn’t want to go with him at all. Is there nothing we can do, Samuel?”
A loud bang rang out as the door flew open. The clerk from the mercantile—Jebediah?—had Mikey by the scruff of the neck. He tossed the boy inside.
Mabel let out a cry of indignation as she scooped Mikey up and shielded him with her body.
Jeb held up a pair of woman’s dancing slippers. “That little rat tried to steal these from me just now!”
Samuel looked at Mikey. “Is that true, son?”
The boy nodded. “I wanted to give th
em to Mrs. Mabel for being so nice to me. I was going to get you something too, Deputy.”
Mabel put her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh. This was a serious matter, and laughing would just send the message to Mikey that it was okay for him to misbehave.
Samuel opened his mouth to say something to the red-faced, fuming clerk, but before he could, Howard walked in.
“Hand over my nephew.”
Samuel narrowed his eyes at the boy’s uncle, then returned his attention to Jeb. “Would you like me to punish him?”
“You do it or I will, Deputy.”
Howard interrupted. “What has my nephew done?”
Samuel met Howard’s glare with one that was even fiercer. “He stole a pair of shoes from this man’s store.”
Howard turned red and said, “Hand him over to me. You can watch, and be certain I’m teaching him a lesson he’ll never forget!”
Jeb’s eyebrows went up to his balding head. “I want justice served, but he’s a child. Sheriff?”
Mabel could tell from the twinkle in Samuel’s eyes that he was delighted to have an excuse not to hand the boy over to his nephew for the first of what would probably be a series of beatings.
“You can talk to the judge, but Mikey confessed to the crime. That’s at least a week of jail time. Maybe more. You may as well go on back home. We’ll send you a letter when he’s out.”
Howard’s fists clenched and for a moment, Mabel thought he was going to take a swing at Samuel. Instead, he shook one fist in the deputy’s direction and cursed a blue streak. “You can’t cheat me out of what’s mine, Deputy. Mikey belongs to me.”
“Last I heard, it was illegal to own another human being.” Samuel’s tone was casual, but his expression was dead serious. “The boy does his time, that’s the law.”
Howard snarled at Mikey, who took a step backward. “You’re going to pay me back for all the trouble you’ve caused.”
Mabel let out a huge sigh of relief when Howard was finally gone. She turned to Mikey. “You stole those shoes because you knew Samuel would have to lock you up.”
The boy nodded. “I’d rather be your prisoner than his nephew.”
Clever boy. He’d bought them some more time. Mabel resolved that she would talk to the judge tomorrow, find out if there was a legal way to keep Mikey.
Samuel looked at Mikey sternly. “Stealing is wrong, son. Swear to me that you’re not going to steal anything ever again.”
“I swear,” the boy said, no hesitation.
“What if Howard comes back?” Mabel asked.
“I doubt he will,” Samuel answered. “But maybe I’ll sleep here tonight. Just until I’m sure he’s left town.”
Mabel smiled. “I’ll be back with dinner.”
As she left, she heard Samuel ask Mikey if he knew any card games. Warm affected flooded her. She’d married a wonderful man, who was going to be an amazing father. She could hardly wait to start a family with him.
Just after she passed the saloon, she heard a woman scream in horror. She hesitated. She’d never been inside a saloon. It was a place where disreputable men and women spent time. Men like Howard.
And women like Jean, who didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Mabel ran through the swinging doors. The room was empty—it was early to be drinking, and early for supper too.
That scream sounded again. Upstairs. Mabel gathered her skirts and hurried up the spiral staircase that led to the upper level. As she emerged into a long hallway, she saw an older woman standing just outside an open door with her hand covering her mouth.
“What’s happened?” Mabel asked.
“It’s Jean! He’s beaten her!” the woman answered.
Mabel pushed past the woman and found Jean on the floor. Her eyes were black. Her petticoat was torn. Her bodice was stained with blood that had probably come from the cut on her temple. She eased Jean up into a sitting position as she snapped, “Don’t just stand there, get a doctor!”
Jean tried to speak, but her lips were so swollen, Mabel couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. She cradled the girl against her, gingerly, hoping she wasn’t aggravating any of the girls’ injuries.
Another one of the saloon girls peeked into the door. She gasped and hurried to kneel next to Jean.
“Mr. Stevens,” the girl said in a rush. “He dragged her up here. Accused her of drugging him. Said everything was her fault. I didn’t think he would—I thought he just wanted—”
You thought he just wanted to rape her, Mabel thought bitterly. And you didn’t interfere because you didn’t want it to happen to you to.
Mabel swore she was going to get Jean out of this life, no matter what it took.
“Go to the sheriff’s office and fetch my husband. Now!”
Chapter 5
Mabel dipped the bloody rag in recently-boiled water and squeezed out the excess before applying it once against to the side of Jean’s neck. The surgeon was seeing to Mr. Richards, whose job it was to keep the saloon girls safe. He’d tried to stop Howard from dragging Jean upstairs, and his injuries were worse.
Samuel had asked the Madame if she’d press charges against Howard, but the Madame had declines. She was afraid it would hurt her business. Jean was only a whore, she’d said, a whore who should have been more careful.
When Samuel had pointed out that Mr. Richards might want feel differently, the Madame had shrugged and said that he’d keep his mouth shut if he wanted to keep his job.
Mabel was livid.
“You can press charges,” she’d said to Jean when the girl had finally regained consciousness for the third time. “A woman deserves protection under the law, same as a man.”
Jean whimpered, licked her lips. “Wouldn’t do no good.”
A man entered the room—one of the other deputies. Zachariah, Mabel recalled from the wedding reception. Now that she thought about it, he was the one who’d tipped his hat to Jean when they’d entered the church.
Mabel decided she liked Zachariah.
“Miss Jean, you going to be all right?”
“I’ll live.” Even with her face so badly swollen, Mable could tell that Jean was pleased by Zachariah’s concern. “Why do you care?”
He hesitated. Glanced at Mabel, then returned his attention to Jean. “I got a little sister back home. I’d be madder than he—heck if someone hurt her like this. If you press charges, I can arrest that man.”
“If I press charges, I’ll lose my job.”
“Your choice. But…think about it.”
Jean was silent for a long moment. “I’ll think about it.”
Mabel silently cheered. She waited until he left to say, “What a nice young man.”
“Miss Mabel, I appreciate you taking care of me, but this ain’t no place for a lady like yourself.”
Mabel smiled. “It’s no place for you either, Jean. But I’m not letting you suffer if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met,” Jean said.
Mabel sat next to her on the bed. “Tell me, have you ever had a dream of doing something else?”
“Wife and mother is all there is for a woman to be besides this,” Jean said.
“You could be a seamstress. Or a cook. Even being a maid is honest work.”
“My mother taught me to sew. I make a lot of my own dresses.” Jean dabbed at her blackened eye with the cold compress and sighed. “But I don’t have enough money to buy my way out.”
“Any problem can be solved if you put your mind to it. If we put our minds to it.”
“I don’t deserve everything you’re doing for me.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Jean.”
When Mabel finally exited the saloon, her back ached and her dress clung to her sweaty skin. Sighing with relief at the feeling of the cooler evening air on her face, she was ready to go home.
“Is that you, Mrs. Cruz?” A stunning raven-haired woman in a long
grey dress examined her as the way you might examine your boot after stepping in something questionable.
“I think we met at the church. Mrs. Riley, is it?”
“Yes, and I very much enjoyed your wedding. How lovely it was.” The woman held a parasol over her head, though it was going into evening and the sun was nowhere near overhead. “I dare ask, what business did you have in there?”
Fiddle-dee-dee, Mabel thought. She squared her shoulders and raised one eyebrow. “Have you not heard of the beatings which took place here earlier today?”
The woman shook her head. “No, I haven’t. It’s a saloon though, so presumably that happens a lot. One of the many reasons proper ladies and gentlemen do not go in there.”
“Well, Jean was one of the people who was beaten,” Mabel said, and found the other woman frowning at her.
“You mean the prostitute?” she asked.
“She was injured, as was the man who protects them.”
The woman looked away and then back at Mabel. “Are you joking?”
“I am not!” Mabel said. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“My dear, she is a whore, and he is employed to fight for them. I saw you talking to her. Emma Lou apparently became confused by the fact that Jean was dressed like a respectable woman and had snuck in—“
“She didn’t sneak in, I invited her.”
“—to the church under false pretenses—“
“I can assure you there was no sneaking involve—“
“—so you see, Emma Lou’s invitation to Jean was an accident. The Ladies’ Circle is for the respectable women of Resurrection.”
Mabel ground her teeth together and counted to ten. To fifteen. To twenty.
“I see. Where I come from, we don’t just give lip service to the Bible. Do you recall the part where Jesus himself befriended and forgave a prostitute for her sins?”
Mrs. Riley simply stared at Mabel, as if she were something so horrid, she was not to be believed.
Not that Mabel was going to back down. Oh no.
“Do you think you’re better than our Savior, Mrs. Riley?”
And with that parting shot, she left the other standing in the street, mouth agape. And there goes my social standing. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to regret defending Jean. How could anyone expect the poor girl to change her ways if no one would help her?
Samuel's Secret (Mail-Order Brides of Resurrection 1) Page 3
