Cadence

by Charlene Raddon

  The deputy stared at her a long moment. "Good heavens. The man is worse than I realized. He's vile. What can I do to help?"

  "I've no idea. I suspect he might have her stashed with a family in Cranesville but don't know for sure. I've sent wires to the marshal there and at Curdy's Crossing asking them to watch for her."

  "Do you have a photograph of her?"

  She rose and went to the dresser for her bag and drew out her sketch of Regina, creased and worn. "I drew this when she was four."

  "You draw very well, and she's a darling. If I get a chance to ride over to Cranesville, I'll look for her."

  With a pleased cry, Cady grabbed Cordelia's hands and squeezed them. "Oh, bless you. That would be wonderful. If you find her, will you be able to bring her back?"

  "We'll see. Might have to go to the marshal there and enlist his aid. Can't mess with another lawman's territory. I'll send you a wire to let you know if I find her. But don't hold your breath. I can't be sure when I'll get a chance to go." Cordelia drew her hands away. "Stay well. I'll check in with you soon."

  "I will. Thank you. Thank you so much."

  "You're welcome. Talking to you wasn't my only reason for coming tonight. Mr. Brant is looking for his sister, July, and thought when he was here earlier that he caught a glimpse of her before the door slammed in his face. You know who he might have seen?"

  Cady's pulse jumped. Images flashed through her mind—Mae showing up right as Lach forced Garrick to leave, Mae dropping her fork at the bakery when they spotted Garrick outside, Mae playing sick to avoid being photographed. Garrick said he'd been looking for his sister for years, that she was the same age as her.

  Mae must be his sister. It all added up.

  What should she do? What could she say to Cordelia without lying or exposing Mae? Garrick needed to know his sister was here and okay, but she couldn't violate a friendship. She needed to convince the girl to go to her brother on her own.

  "Cady?"

  "Sorry, I was trying to recall if I'd ever heard her mention a brother. I've never heard any of the girls call themselves July or mention a brother. If I learn anything, I'll let you know."

  "Where is Mae's room? Maybe I should talk to her."

  Cady thought fast. "I believe she's entertaining a customer."

  Again, Cordelia studied her. Finally, she got to her feet. "All right. I'll leave you alone. Don't hesitate to come to Aubrey or me if Mortimer threatens to harm you."

  "I appreciate your concern." Cady walked her to the door and watched her disappear down the hall.

  Five minutes after Cordelia returned to the jail and reported her conversation with Cady to Garrick, he left, vowing to get inside the salon somehow.

  "If you never see me again," he said on his way out, "dig in the woods behind the salon."

  It took him mere minutes to reach the bordello. He circled the large structure, peering into windows, hoping to see July, and to better familiarize himself with the interior. Leda and Alma lounged in the parlor while Thumbs stood by the huge fireplace where flames licked at a pile of wood. Franco sat with the girls. He saw no sign of Lach. In the kitchen, the cook stood at the stove stirring something in a kettle.

  With great caution, he tried each door, except for the front. All were locked. So were the windows.

  He did try picking the lock on the dining room door and failed. He considered a crowbar but figured the noise would alert someone.

  He saw no way to climb up to any of the windows on the upper floor. If he didn't manage to get in as a customer, he'd try climbing to the second-floor balcony at the back of the building.

  At the front door, he adjusted his coat, tie and hat, took a deep breath and knocked.

  Sam answered. "Cady's not available."

  When the door began to close, Garrick thrust his booted foot between it and the door jamb.

  "Wait, Sam. I'm not here for her, only some feminine company. I wouldn't even want her to know I came here."

  "Who're you joshing, Garrick?" He gave him a look, half-pity, half-disgust. "You think I ain't smart enough to see you feel about Cady? If a poke was what you wanted, you'd go to the Velvet kitten."

  He glanced downward and Garrick guessed his intention.

  "Hold on, Sam—"

  Too late. The man stomped hard and Garrick yanked back his throbbing foot.

  "Stay away from here," Sam said. "Hanging around here could be dangerous." The door closed.

  Disgusted with himself, Garrick limped to the jail and reported to Aubrey and Cordelia.

  Exhausted by her nerve-wracking interview with the deputy, Cady lay on the bed, fighting the urge to sleep. A rap came on the door.

  "It's Franco. Open up." The clock read midnight.

  She rushed to the door Mae slipped inside, looking both angry and resigned.

  "By the way," Franco said, "Garrick tried to get in here a bit ago. Said he wanted time with one of the girls. Not you." He shut the door and Cady locked it.

  Garrick came to be with one of the girls? Why? For the usual reason? The very thought caused her chest to ache.

  At least they had Mae back. "I'm so glad he found you. What on earth got into you, Mae? We were worried sick."

  She uttered not a word, simply went to the bed and toppled onto the mattress, tears in her eyes. "Why did he come after me? Why couldn't he have left me alone to do what I wanted?"

  Cady sat beside her and patted her friend's shoulder. "Franco cares about you, Mae. Don't you know that?"

  "I suspected…hoped… Oh, I don’t know what I want or what I should do. I need to get away from here, from Wildcat Ridge. Maybe from the territory."

  "Why, Mae? Because your name is really July and your brother is here searching for you?"

  Mae spun away, pretending to look for something. "Don't be ridiculous."

  "I'm not. Garrick caught a glimpse of you before the door slammed in his face when he came to give me my photograph this morning. He isn't sure it was his July, but he's suspicious, or I should say, hopeful. He wants so badly to find you."

  "Well, you can go tell him he's wrong. I don't have any brothers. Never did."

  "All right, Mae. All right. Whether he's your brother or not—"

  "He's not."

  "—is your business, not mine. Let's talk about something else. Are you going downstairs tonight?"

  "I don't have much choice, do I?"

  "Mae!" Mortimer yelled from the hallway. The door knob jiggled. "Are you in there? Answer me."

  "What is it, Mr. Crane?"

  "Is Cady there with you?"

  Cady shook her head and put her finger to her lips.

  "No, Mr. Crane," Mae called out. "I don't know where she is. I'm ill with a stomach ache, but I'll be down soon."

  "You better be." A good deal of cursing followed, fading as the man moved down the hall. He knocked at the doors of the other girls, asked the same question and received either no or silence.

  "What now?" Mae asked. She appeared exhausted and bedraggled.

  Cady got up and put her ear to the door. "As soon as he starts down the stairs, I'll race down the back way and say I wanted a snack. Stay here."

  She opened the door, glanced up and down the hallway and darted down the corridor. She'd had the foresight to remain clothed, but now wished she'd removed her shoes. She sounded like a horse clomping down the stairs.

  When she entered the kitchen, she found Henri in his robe getting a loaf from the bread keeper. "Good evening, Miss Biggler," he said, seeming accustomed to being up in the middle of the night and having her burst into the room as if the house were afire. "Care for a midnight snack?"

  "Good evening, Henri. I am hungry."

  "I'll make you a sandwich." He took a knife to the bread. "I assume you are in dire straits, judging from the rate of speed with which you descended the stairs."

  "Mr. Crane is looking for me." She drew up a stool and perched on it.

  "Ah. That explains it. There's been an abu
ndance of pounding and shouting tonight. I hope it ends once he finds you here. I'll make you a sandwich."

  Franco burst in. "Cady, here you are. Mortimer's hunting for you. How'd you get down here so fast?"

  "She flew," Henri said in his usual dry tone.

  "Where is Mortimer now?" she asked.

  Before Franco could answer, the man himself shambled in from the hallway. Seeing Cady, he stopped cold. He tightened the tie on his robe and ran a hand over his hair. "Here you are, Cady. I was worried because you weren't in your room."

  "And how did you know that, Mr. Crane?" she asked, using a sweet, innocent voice.

  "I…uh… Never mind." He turned to Franco. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you taking care of customers?"

  "I'm going now." Franco hurried out.

  "And you, Cady, what are you doing in the kitchen?" Mortimer asked.

  "I became hungry and found Henri making a sandwich. He offered to make one for me."

  "Humph. Why are you up at this hour, Henri?"

  "Something woke me, sir. Shouting, I believe."

  Mortimer glanced away, his face taking on a ruddy hue. "Yes, well, let's all retire to our beds now, shall we?"

  "As soon as I finish eating," Cady said, as Henri slid a plate in front of her bearing a sandwich.

  Henri picked up his own sandwich to take a bite then focused on Mortimer. "Would you like one, sir?"

  To her surprise, light filled Mortimer's eyes and he smiled as if no one had ever invited him to share a snack before. The man might be a beast, but she suddenly pitied him. He had no friends, only Thumbs and Lach who were hired hands, nothing more. "Yes, Mr. Crane, why not stay and eat with us?"

  "Sure. Why not? A late-night snack, right?" He pulled out a chair." Incidentally, I'll be leaving for Cranesville Tuesday and taking Lach with me."

  Cady wanted to cheer.

  Henri slapped roast beef and bread together and served it on a plate. The three of them ate in stilted silence. As Cady watched the food slosh around in Mortimer's open mouth while he chewed, she reminded herself he was, in a real way, holding her prisoner. And she pitied him?

  Insane, Cady. Insane.

  Had Garrick really come to be with one of the other girls? And had Mae told the truth when she denied he was her brother?

  Chapter Nine

  Mortimer left on the train as expected and the house sighed with relief. Not finding Lach anywhere, everyone assumed he went with his boss.

  To celebrate their moment of freedom, Cady, Leda and Alma decided to visit the mercantile and bakery. Mae pleaded exhaustion from her night's adventures, but Cady guessed her true motive was to avoid Garrick.

  Despite the gray, ominous clouds that filled the sky, the girls laughed and cracked jokes as they always did during Mortimer's absences.

  Sam tagged along behind, not close enough to interfere with their conversation, but enough to keep an eye on them.

  "You don't need to come," Cady called back to him. "Mortimer will never know."

  "We'll keep watch on her," Alma said. "Don't worry."

  Sam frowned and stared at the tips of his boots for a minute. "Naw, don't reckon I ought to do that. If Mortimer found out, I'd be out of a job."

  "You fear him that much?" Cady asked. How could she get him to help her if he's terrified of Mortimer?

  "He ain't nobody to cross, Miss Cady. And neither is Lach. That man has a cruel streak in him as long as the Mississippi River. I once seen him whip a man just 'cause he stepped in front of him."

  Cady moaned silently. The situation was worse than she wanted to believe. Never, until she came here, had she known people who liked to be cruel. She didn't understand it. Each day it became more difficult to believe she'd get Regina back soon. Thinking about it destroyed the fun of getting out of the salon.

  The girls went on their way, and Sam dropped back again, following at a distance.

  "I'm so glad old Moron went back to Cranesville," Leda said. "If only he'd stay there. And Lach too."

  "I agree, but I'm not going to let him ruin my visit to the bakery. I love Susannah's pies." Alma seemed unusually chipper. She almost skipped along the road. "I can breathe better when Mortimer's gone though. I'm always afraid he'll come to my bed when he's here."

  "I've had that thought too. I think he's afraid to bed his own women for fear they'd fight over him, if you can imagine that." Leda pointed across the street. "Cady, look. Isn't that your photographer's wagon?"

  "My photographer?"

  "Yes. You can't deny he's interested in you."

  Yes, she could. He'd given no indication he was attracted to her.

  A breeze fanned her cheek, reminding her of the way Garrick had brushed his thumb over that same cheek after the fire.

  Sure enough though, Garrick's wagon sat parked behind the dressmaker's shop. Her pulse beat faster, whether because she might see him again or because he might ask about July, she didn't know. If she knew beyond a doubt that Mae was July, she might tell him. The fact that Mae kept insisting it wasn't true, left her unsure. Did Mae not trust her to keep her secret, or was she telling the truth?

  Cady sighed, tempted to return to the salon. The day had already been ruined for her. The girls would give her a bad time if she didn't go with them. Besides, she wanted to go to the Wells Fargo Office. She had sent telegrams to the marshals of the neighboring towns about Regina and needed to check for replies.

  She decided to try hurrying past the wagon and hope he didn't see her.

  No sooner had the three girls drawn abreast of the wagon than Garrick emerged. "Hello, ladies. Cady, I made a copy of the photograph Mortimer took. Would you like to get it now?"

  Blast. She did want that picture. Maybe if she kept the others with her, he wouldn't ask questions. "Yes, I want it."

  "Go on, Cady. He has a thing for you." Leda teased.

  "Come with me and don't leave me alone with him."

  "Why would I want to do that?" Leda shrugged. "You could crawl in bed with him for all I care. Who else would give a damn?"

  "Mortimer!" Cady and Alma said at the same time.

  Together, they trooped to the wagon. Cady noted Garrick's frown, but he reached into the wagon and produced the photograph, holding it up so all could see.

  Cady almost gasped at the likeness. It looked nothing like her.

  "Oh, Cady," Alma squealed. "It's lovely. I want my photograph taken in a nice dress. You look beautiful."

  "Don't be silly, Alma. It's only an illusion. That dress is old and worn. The photograph simply makes me look better." That was truly her? She'd grown up believing herself to be plain. The girl in the mirror was pretty.

  Garrick laughed. "The camera merely recorded what it saw."

  "He's right, Cady," Leda said. "Take it and let's go. I'm hungry."

  Cady reached for the photo. Garrick withdrew it.

  "Why don't I keep it here while you're gone, and you can pick it up on your way back?" he said. "You don't want to risk getting it stained with food."

  "Good idea," Leda said. "Come on."

  When Cady started to turn, Garrick curled his fingers around her arm. "Please. I need to talk to you."

  Sam caught up and Garrick let go.

  "Better keep going, Miss Cady," Sam said.

  She turned to him. "Would it be all right if Mr. Brant brought me a copy of my photograph to the salon later? No one there would tell Mortimer or Lach, and we'd be out of sight, so no one would know."

  "I don't know." Sam kicked at a rock.

  Cady went to him and placed her hands on the muscular arms crossed over his chest. "Please, Sam. This is important. I'll work with you on your reading later, all right?"

  He appeared so torn, she almost told him to forget about it. Then he surprised her, saying, "I suppose it'll be all right, long as nobody tells on us."

  "We won't say a word," Leda said, and Alma agreed.

  "Neither will I." Garrick directed his attention to Cady. "I'll see you later t
hen. This afternoon."

  "Good." Not only would Cady get her photo, she might have a chance to get to know him better. As soon as she returned to the salon, she'd warn Mae of the impending visit.

  Franco let Garrick in when he arrived that afternoon."

  "Sky is solid clouds," Garrick said as he removed his hat and coat. "I think it might snow tonight."

  "If it does, it does. Nothing we can do about it. Cady's in the reading room if that's who you're looking for."

  Garrick grinned. "Thanks. That's exactly who I want to see."

  "First, let me ask you something. When you came the other night and asked to see one of the girls, other than Cady, were you simply trying to get inside, or did you really want time with a girl?"

  Garrick's smile faded. Had Franco told Cady about his visit? He wouldn't want her to think he'd come for the usual reason men visited here. "I guess it won't hurt now to admit that I had no intention of sleeping with anyone."

  Franco smiled. "That's what I suspected. You must be smitten to want to see Cady that much."

  Garrick didn't bother trying to change the man's mind. He thanked Franco and walked to the reading room.

  He found Cady bent over a table next to Sam who was struggling to write something. For a moment, he simply admired the view, until curiosity drove him to walk over. "What's going on here?"

  Cady straightened abruptly. "Oh. Garrick. I didn't see you come in."

  "No problem. Are you teaching Sam his alphabet?"

  "Essentially. Sam didn't get much education when he was young so he's making up for it now."

  "I'm learning to read," Sam said with a smile as big as a full moon.

  Cady bent down again and corrected Sam's backward E. "You're doing very well. I think you'll be reading in no time."

  "Thanks to you. I'm going to practice my letters some more."

  "Good. Garrick and I will be over by the fireplace if you have a question."

  Cady led the way and curled up in a wingback chair. Garrick sat in one across from her, setting two paper-wrapped parcels on the low table between them. She recognized the flat one and opened it to find her photograph.

  "Still can't believe that's me."