Before the Larkspur Blooms

by Caroline Fyffe

  Jake strode into the saloon. He didn’t see Daisy right away, but Dwight stood at the bar with two other fellows. His foot rested on the brass footrest, and his hat was tipped back.

  “I’d bet money that Donovan is our man. He has a history of rustling. A dog can’t change his spots even if he tries.”

  Jake hadn’t made it past third grade, but he knew slander was wrong. Dwight didn’t have any evidence on Thom. If he did, Albert would have arrested him already. It rankled to hear a good man talked about like that. Don’t get involved. You’re in enough trouble already, he reminded himself. I don’t need Hoskins on my back, too.

  Dwight’s friend shrugged. “Could be. Why would he come back here where everyone knows his past?”

  “Maybe he thinks this town is easy pickings. So far, he’d be right about that. The Sunday the Triple T was hit—twice—the mick was nowhere to be found. I know because I was looking. I don’t trust him around women either. I caught him looking at—”

  A flash of anger hit Jake like a freight train. Ah, horsepucky. Why’d Dwight have to go and say that?

  Dwight finished off his whiskey as he caught Jake coming toward him in the mirror’s reflection. “You got something to say—Jake?”

  There it was. The insinuation that he didn’t have any name but his first. Same ole, same ole. Jake balled his fist. “Yeah, I got something to say, Deputy. You ought not go ruinin’ a man’s name just because you don’t like him.” They stood toe-to-toe. Dwight didn’t scare him. “Thom Donovan was out at the ranch that particular Sunday you just mentioned—in a gunnysack race with Hannah Hoskins.” He paused, letting his words sink in. Everyone knew Dwight had been sweet on Hannah for a very long time. “They didn’t win, in case you’re wondering.”

  The stench of Dwight’s heavy perspiration, mixed with whiskey, coiled thick in the air. His eyes narrowed dangerously when his two companions laughed.

  Jake felt the corners of his mouth tip up. He couldn’t stop himself from driving the nail a bit deeper. “Offered to save me a trip into town by taking her home. Yep, I’d say a romance is blooming.”

  Dwight lunged. The other men scattered. Disadvantaged by Dwight’s extra thirty pounds, Jake fell backward on the wooden floor with Hoskins on top. The deputy drove several painful punches into Jake’s face. Jake wrestled a hand free and socked Dwight’s side, knocking the wind from him. That gave Jake a moment to heft the lawman off and jump up. Dwight stood and grabbed the whiskey bottle he’d been drinking and smashed it against the bar, leaving long, wicked spikes on the bottom half. The lawman leaped forward. Jake reacted quickly, but a shard flew off the bottle and hit him on the lower edge of his eyebrow. He flinched.

  The metal click of a shotgun brought them up short.

  “That’s enough!” Kendall held his shotgun steady from behind the bar.

  Jake dabbed the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the sting above his eye.

  Daisy ran up and grabbed his arm. “Come on, Jake, let me get that out.” A drop of blood dripped into his eye.

  He set her away, unsure if Dwight was finished.

  “Go on,” Dwight sneered. “Have your saloon girl fix you up. She don’t care if you’re a by-product of a wild night out on the town.”

  A blast filled the room, hurting Jake’s ears. Little bits of the ceiling rained down on them. “I told you to shut up, Dwight. That star don’t give you the right to do anything you darn well please.”

  Jake stepped forward, but Kendall leveled the gun on him. “When I said that’s enough, I meant it. Now, git, Jake.”

  Jake didn’t want to let it go. The tinny taste of blood in his mouth fueled his anger. Dwight slurring Daisy’s name made him the maddest of all.

  Philomena slid between him and Dwight, one finely plucked eyebrow arched in censure. She put her hand on Jake’s arm, and he had no choice but to follow. They went into the back room where Kendall kept the whiskey and Daisy waited. Without a word, Philomena backed out and closed the door with a click.

  “Come over here.” Daisy’s voice was soft, reminding Jake of something pretty. Like butterfly wings in the spring. She guided him to a barrel on end, and he sat without saying a word. By now, his eye stung like a son of a gun, and he clenched it closed.

  A tiny smile pulled at her lips.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You look like a pirate,” she said, carefully plucking the shard of glass from beneath his eyebrow. She placed a piece of cloth over the wound. The light pressure felt good.

  Sounds of men’s voices filtered through the thin wall. With a wet cloth she blotted away the drying blood, all the while ignoring his steady gaze.

  “You’re a sweet girl, Daisy,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her face. She moved slowly, letting her fingers linger on his skin. “Anyone ever tell you that before?”

  She shook her head. A dusty pink colored her cheeks.

  “Well, that’s a shame because it’s true.”

  “Hush, Jake. I need to clean you up. It’s been awhile since you’ve been in. I was getting worried.”

  He tried not to let her statement please him, but it did. Much more than he’d like to admit. Compared to Dwight, Daisy smelled nice, a sort of spice mixed with a maple-syrupy kind of smell. Took him back to the days he’d stay some nights at the old store in Valley Springs with Mrs. Hollyhock and she’d feed him pancakes in the morning and make him bathe. The memory made him smile.

  “What?” She was smiling, too, as if she knew what he was thinking.

  He shook his head. Suddenly he realized what he’d been needing those months ago when he’d first thought he was in love with Hannah. It wasn’t really Hannah he’d been longing for, but the approval her affection would mean to him. She was a person of high standing in the community. Her love would have been the proof he desperately sought that he was indeed someone. He stared down at the grimy, litter-strewn floor of the storeroom, struggling to grasp the understanding that thundered around inside him. Everything he’d ever needed was here, in this room, in Daisy’s eyes. He didn’t need anyone’s approval except his own.

  Daisy’s unexpected stillness drew his attention. A worried frown replaced her smile, and her hands hung at her sides; the fire in her expressive green eyes almost misted over. She must have misunderstood his contemplation for rejection, because she turned and headed for the door.

  “Wait.” The word came out with a needy rasp. Jake reached for her wrist and pulled her toward him and onto his lap.

  “I’m a saloon girl, Jake. Probably always will be.” She placed a hand on his chest as she looked up into his face. Her gaze flicked to the wound under his eyebrow and then back to his eyes. The sorrow he saw there hurt deep in his heart.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” He didn’t know himself what it was he wanted, except to feel her sweetness next to him. To hold her close. When her chin tipped up, he softly pressed his lips to hers.

  The door banged open, and Jake pulled back. Kendall came in and stopped. Daisy jumped to her feet, and Jake followed.

  “I wondered where you’d gone off to, Daisy.” His tone wasn’t angry. He gave Jake a look that said he’d just been caught raiding the cookie jar. The bartender took two bottles of whiskey off the top shelf.

  “I was just doctoring him a little,” Daisy offered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Good. A group of railroad men just came in and need some entertainment.” He cocked a brow, then turned and hurried out.

  She took a step to follow him, but Jake beat her to the door. “I need to get to work, Jake.” She reached up and checked the spot under his eyebrow one last time.

  “I know. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been preoccupied for the last two weeks. That’s why I haven’t had a chance to stop in. All the rustling and such.”

  “And Rome? I wondered. After the poker game…”

  “I know. I stormed out. I’ve never lost that much money before.” A grim laugh slipped out betw
een his teeth. “I’ve never lost any money before. It was foolish. After tonight, though, everything—” He closed his mouth.

  Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes huge in her heart-shaped face. “Are you meeting Rome tonight? Where, Jake? Do you have the money?”

  “Not the full amount yet. But he seems like a pretty decent man. I’ll work it out to pay some each month with interest.”

  “Daisy!” Kendall bellowed. The word was drawn out so long, the men in the saloon laughed.

  “I’m coming, Kendall.” She grasped Jake by the front of his shirt. “He’s not a decent man. There’s something about him that scares me. Don’t go alone, Jake. I’m begging you.”

  “He’s fine, Daisy. He’s no outlaw.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I’ve been saving my earnings. It’s not all that much, but it can help you make up the difference. You can have—”

  “No. But thank you. I’m not taking your hard-earned money because of my stupidity.”

  The sound of Kendall’s flat-bottomed boots clomped toward the storeroom. Daisy went up on tiptoe, coming close to his face. She gave him a strong shake. “Tell me where, Jake. Where’re the two of you meeting?”

  The door rattled as Kendall got closer.

  “Jake!”

  Her distress made Jake speak. “South fork of Shady Creek. Ten o’clock tonight.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Upstairs in her bedroom, Hannah reached around to unbutton the waist of her skirt and slipped the yards of material toward the floor. Oh, how I’d love to be free of long skirts and dresses. A nice pair of pants would suit me just fine. A sharp pounding resounded loudly at the front door. Surprised, she snagged her foot in her pantaloons and spilled onto her quilt-covered bed, floundering in all the fabric. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Who in the name of anything good knocks like that?”

  A little over an hour ago, she’d returned from the restaurant and now she was changing before fixing something for Markus’s dinner. Righting herself, she tussled her foot free and tossed the gravy-splattered dress into the corner for washing. She glanced at her bedside clock.

  “Mother, can you get that, please?” she called loudly through her closed door. Whoever it was pounded again, setting her teeth on edge and lighting her temper.

  “One moment,” she called out the window.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Where is Mother? She quickly pulled on a new skirt, buttoned up her blouse, and ran down the stairs. She flung the door open just as the offender struck it again, rattling the door in her hand.

  “Dwight!”

  “I want to talk to you, Hannah,” he said, stepping past her even though she hadn’t invited him in.

  A noxious odor floated in with him, and she took a step back. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m busy.”

  He scowled. He looked wildly around the room as if he expected to find someone hiding behind the furniture. When he seemed satisfied that they were alone, he turned on her. Stringy blond hair stuck out in a mess, and he had a shiner forming on his right eye. A long tear opened his shirt under the pocket, and his deputy’s star dangled. Someone had gotten the better of him.

  “No. It can’t wait. I’ve been waiting for years. I don’t intend to wait anymore.”

  She squared her shoulders. “What in the blazes has you so aggravated?”

  Hatred shone from his eyes. “Well, let me see. Maybe it’s the fact you’ve been stringing me along. I’m sick of it. Today it ends!”

  How dare he? “I’ve never led you on. Either apologize or get out.” She pointed to the door with all the grit she could muster. “Actually, I prefer the latter.”

  Instead of leaving, he stalked around the room like a man gone mad. Fear inched up Hannah’s spine, but she pushed it away. Dwight was not going to cow her. Not now. Not ever!

  “You’ve been consorting with that Irish mick. Even after I told you—have been waiting patiently for you. You’re going to be my wife whether you like it or not.”

  Hannah laughed. She couldn’t stop herself. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I never—I repeat never, encouraged you. The romance you’ve cooked up was only in your head. I repeatedly told you there would never be anything between us. I’m never going to marry you, Dwight. I don’t care if you are Caleb’s cousin. I don’t care if we already share the same last name. I don’t care if you’re the deputy sheriff of Logan Meadows. I’ll not marry you now or ever. I’m going to marry Thom Donovan. I love Thom Donovan. It’ll be Thom Donovan or no one. Do you understand?”

  Dwight’s face turned three shades of purple. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and Hannah thought out in her mind the different escape routes she could take if he stepped her way.

  “So you’re going to marry Thom.” It was a statement said in a flat, nasally tone.

  “I would if he wanted me.” Good. It seemed her tirade had burst his bubble. “Which he doesn’t. He knows my feelings, and still he stays firm in pushing me away. Now, are you happy?”

  The back door slammed, and the sound of running feet echoed into the living room. Roberta burst into the room. Her eyes were wide as she looked back and forth between them. Markus was next. He ran to Hannah’s side as if to protect her.

  “What in the heavens is going on in this house?” Roberta gasped. “We could hear you all the way from the creek.” Markus held a slimy frog cupped in his hands. The bottom of his pants were wet up to his knees.

  “She’s in love with him, Roberta,” Dwight yelled. “I can’t believe my own words. Thom Donovan!” He looked back and forth between her and her mother as if they were in the third grade and he was telling on her. Maybe he thought she’d get ten swats and then be sent to bed without any supper. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already—” He looked at Markus and shut his mouth.

  Hannah’s heart twisted as her mother stepped toward the tall, crazy-looking deputy and poked a straight finger into his chest. “I’m going to have your job for this outrageous stunt, Deputy Hoskins. I suggest you get your whiny mouth and dirty mind out of Hannah’s house and never step foot into it again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  Dwight stumbled back, clearly shaken. “What? But—” He held out a hand to Roberta, a lost-little-boy look in his eyes.

  Hannah reached down and picked up Markus. He wrapped one arm around her neck and clung to the frog with the other. His presence bolstered her resolve. “I’m sorry, Dwight, about whatever happened to you today. I can see that you’ve clearly been upset.” Was it Thom? Had the two finally come to blows? Was Thom hurt, bleeding somewhere, needing help?

  Dwight brushed at his pants as if he could fix his appearance with the small gesture. “You and Thom,” he muttered and took a step toward the door. “I never thought I’d see the day. Never thought…” He yanked the door open and stomped out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The usual peaceful feeling Chase got from the barn did little to calm his ragged nerves. He moved from one stall to the next, checking on the young horses bedded inside. Five of the finest of this year’s two-year-old crop were spending their first night ever in a barn. They’d run free until now, growing strong and clever. A colt, three stalls back, snorted and kicked the wooden slats keeping him from his prairie home.

  Chase stifled a grin as he carefully opened the last gate on the aisle. The golden-colored filly swung around in fear, crowding into the corner, her silvery mane and tail rippling with movement. Her large, intelligent eyes, brilliant even in the dusky light, distrustfully looked him over. The aroma of damp horseflesh hung thick in the air. She snorted, then stomped her right foreleg in warning. Chase put out his hand in supplication, but didn’t go in. “Easy, girl.” She was a beauty. Was sure to bring a high price this fall if they decided to sell her.

  He rubbed his gritty eyes and closed the stall door. A sigh slipped out. Nothing mattered except fixing this horribly cruel mess with Sarah. When would the Stockbridge people arrive? What would
it do to Jessie if they took Sarah away? And to me? Gabe and Jake? Shane? So many questions. So few answers. He felt castrated. Unable to protect his family when they needed him most.

  “Chase?”

  He turned and saw Gabe silhouetted in the door. The young man entered, his footfalls silenced in the soft-packed dirt. “Hoped I’d find you out here.”

  “Yeah, just finishing up.” It was just a small lie. He’d been avoiding Jessie at every turn. The pain in her face was killing him inside. He needed to do something, but he didn’t know what. Long hours in the barn, riding the pastures, and checking with Albert in town helped him stay away. As of yet, he and Jessie hadn’t shared the information about Sarah with anyone.

  “The stock look good,” Chase added, motioning to the stalls. “How many more are still running up in the high country?”

  Gabe offered a lopsided grin. “A good ten. We should have ’em corralled at Devil’s Gorge by the end of next week. By then this batch will be started and able to be moved to paddocks. I have my eye on her.” His nod indicated the filly in the last stall. “I think we should keep her.”

  “My thoughts, too.” He opened her gate again. This time she pinned her ears and shook her head. “She’s a beauty, all right. Her dam’s as spirited as they come. Seems this girl will be the same. The wilder the colt, the better the horse.”

  Gabe nodded.

  Chase glanced around. “Where’s Jake? Thought he’d be with you.”

  “Actually, I thought he was with you in the barn,” Gabe said. “He’s not at the house. I checked before I came out here.”

  “Well, he’s probably gone into town to let off some steam. It is Friday night.”

  Gabe shrugged, then looked away.

  Gabe’s boyhood diversion tactic was not lost on Chase. “What? Is there something about him going to town that I should know about?”

  “Nope. A man has the right to rein his life in any direction he wants, I guess.”