Justin's Bride (9 page)

“So you remember.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “She was the one—” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

“The woman I was accused of beating seven years ago. Interesting, don't you think?”

“She cleared your name.”

“So I heard.”

“But you don't know how.”

“What do you mean?”

Megan was sorry she'd said anything. She didn't want to have this conversation with Justin. There was no way for her to talk about it without him guessing how much she'd been hurt. No one had known the truth, she reminded herself. That was the only thought that had kept her alive during those awful days. When she'd heard the story, she'd known she'd made the right decision about staying in Landing. What would have happened if she'd left with him and then found out? She would have been destroyed.

“Megan, tell me what you're talking about.” He rose from the chair and approached her. With the closed door behind her, there was nowhere to go. He tossed his hat on the chair and gently held her upper arms. “Tell me.”

“I...” She looked up into his face, then away. “When she said it wasn't you, the sheriff wanted to know how she was sure. He told her it had been dark. She said—” Her voice caught. She swallowed again, then closed her eyes. It was easier to speak of it without looking at him. “She said she would have known you anywhere. That you'd been with her several times, some of them in the dark.” She blinked back the tears, but could do nothing about the pain. “You spent those summer evenings kissing me and tempting me on the bank of the stream, but you spent your nights with her. You went from me to a w-whore.”

His fingers gripped her tighter. “Sonofabitch.”

She flinched at the harsh word.

He released her then, and turned away. “So even if you knew anything about her death you, wouldn't tell me,” he said.

“That's not true. If you think that, you don't know me at all.”

“You're right, I don't know you.” He picked up his hat. “It's been seven years, Megan. Despite the past we shared, we're strangers.”

Then why does my heart beat faster around you?
She didn't ask. He would have no answer, at least none that she wanted to hear.

“I'd better go,” he said, turning toward her.

She feared what she would see in his eyes, but for once his lack of expression was a blessing. “I really don't know anything,” she said.

He nodded and moved past her toward the door. She wanted to say something, anything to make it right between them. There were no words left. He was right; they were strangers.

He opened the door.

“Justin?”

He paused.

She raised her hand toward him, wanting to touch him, then let her arm drop to her side. “I don't know if this helps or not, but there was another saloon girl killed about four years ago. She was beaten to death, as well.”

“What happened?”

“I don't know.” She held her palm out. “I was caring for my father while he was ill, so don't yell at me for not being concerned about her death. I don't know any of the details, but they sound the same as those surrounding Laurie Smith's death. Maybe it will help.”

“Thanks for telling me. No one else bothered to.” He grimaced. “I don't suppose you would consider asking around about Laurie? Maybe people would tell you something they won't tell me?”

She wouldn't have been more shocked if he'd asked her to take off her dress and parade around in her petticoats. “I can't. What would people—”

“Think,” he finished grimly. “Stupid of me to ask.”

“That's not fair. No one I know would be familiar with a saloon girl.”

He stepped into the hallway. “Tell me, Megan, does it get cold and lonely being perfect?”

He didn't wait for an answer, he simply walked away. She stared after him, biting her lower lip and fighting the tears. He wasn't being reasonable. He wanted too much. And he was right. Her world was much colder and emptier than he could ever imagine.

* * *

Justin stormed along the boardwalk, then stomped through the mud on his way back to his office. Damn Megan for her heartlessness. He pulled his mouth into a straight line and barely had the good manners to nod as one of the new settlers in the area greeted him.

She couldn't risk her precious reputation to ask a few questions about a dead girl. Laurie Smith had never hurt anyone; she'd been the one hurt.

His steps slowed as he remembered the look on Megan's face as she'd tonelessly spoken the words that had proven his innocence. That Laurie knew Justin's form in the dark because he'd bedded her. More than once.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He'd been so young, then. So infatuated with Megan, so determined to do the right thing. But night after night of kissing her and nothing more had left him as randy as a stallion teased by a mare in heat. He'd taken his release with Laurie because she was young and smelled sweet and because if he closed his eyes, he could pretend her curves were Megan's. He would have cut out his heart rather than let Megan know what he'd done.

He shook his head but that didn't banish her look of hurt and shattered pride. She was too innocent to understand the needs of a man, especially a foolish young man. She wouldn't know that time and experience would temper those needs and that spending his coin on Laurie didn't mean he had loved Megan less. Things would be different now. He could handle the temptation without giving in. He had developed self-control. Not that it mattered. There was nothing between him and Megan and there never would be. When his year was up, he was leaving and never looking back.

He stalked around the pile of manure by the sheriff's office, then jerked open the door. He was so intent on forgetting Megan and trying to concentrate on her news of another murder four years ago that at first he didn't notice Thomas cowering in front of a tall, large-boned woman.

“Sheriff,” Thomas said as Justin stepped into the office. “I'm real glad you're back. This lady here—” he motioned to the poorly dressed older woman “—needs to speak with you.”

The woman turned her cold stare on him. There was something meanspirited about her and Justin understood why his deputy was squirming.

“Are you the last person I got to explain this to, or should I just hold my tongue a spell? I ain't fond of chewin' my food twice.”

“I'm the sheriff here,” he said and motioned for her to take a seat. He took off his hat and coat and hung them on the hooks by the door, then offered her his most charming smile.

The woman glared at him and sat. Her gray-streaked hair was pulled back into a bun. The afternoon sunlight caught the strands, highlighting the oily film. Her coat and dress were old and dirty, her face none too clean. Only practice kept him from recoiling when her odor drifted to him.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

Her gaze narrowed. “I've been to that church there. The pea-eyed lady done told me she don't care for the likes of my trouble. Not that I blame her. I don't care for it none, neither.”

Justin perched on the edge of his desk and looked at Thomas. The deputy shrugged. “I'm not sure, sir. We had just started our discussion when you walked in.”

“I'm gettin' to it,” the woman said impatiently. “Girl, get over here.”

Justin saw something move away from the corner. He looked closer. With all the commotion, he hadn't noticed the child standing so quietly. At the woman's command, the girl stepped forward slowly, but kept her gaze firmly fixed on her shoes.

If anything, her clothing was worse than the woman's. Her dress and coat were too short. Patches of lining showed through on the sleeves and what he saw wasn't too thick. Her legs were thin, bare and scratched around the knees. Her littlest toe on her left foot poked through her shoe. The soles were probably missing altogether.

Anger welled up inside of him. He understood families being poor. God knows he and his mother had had their share of tough times. “Are you saying the lady at the church wasn't willing to provide you with food and clothing for your daughter?” How like Colleen, he thought grimly. She would save all her Christian charity for the well-placed citizens of towns, the ones who needed it the least.

“She ain't mine,” the woman said. When the girl was close enough, she grabbed the child's arm and pulled her in front of the chair. “Say how-do.”

“Hello,” the small child whispered. Her voice was shaking. She couldn't be more than five or six and was obviously terrified.

“I'm afraid I don't understand,” Justin said.

The woman scowled. “It's real simple. That whore, Laurie Smith, paid me to take care of her bastard girl here.” The woman poked at the girl. “She's dead, and the money's run out. I don't run no orphanage. I got babes of my own to feed and there ain't no extra.”

Justin curled his fingers into his palm, just in case his temper got the better of him.

“Madam, I would thank you not to speak like that in front of the child.”

The woman stood up and shrugged. “Say all the fancy talk you want. Like I said, the church lady didn't want nothin' to do with the girl. I ain't gonna keep her. As I sees it, she's your problem.” The woman moved to the door, opened it and walked away.

J
ustin stared at the little girl and wondered what he was supposed to do now. She continued to study her worn shoes. Thomas came back into the office after having followed the woman.

“She disappeared,” he said, between breaths. “She must have had a wagon somewhere. I'm sure it won't take me long to find out where she lives and who she is. I could—”

Justin cut him off with a shake of his head. He crouched in front of the little girl. Long matted black hair hung past her shoulders and shadowed her face. She was as dirty and smelly as the woman had been.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“B-Bonnie.”

“Was that lady your mother?”

“No. My mama's dead.”

“I'm sorry, Bonnie. Was that lady taking care of you?”

The girl nodded. “Mama couldn't be with me, so she left me with Mrs. Jarvis. Mrs. Jarvis told me whores go to hell, and that I'm going to hell, too, to be with my mama.” She swallowed. “Is this hell?”

Despite her slumped shoulders and trembling voice, Justin smiled slightly. “Sometimes I think so, honey, but no. This is Landing. Mrs. Jarvis brought you to town.”

Her small, dirty fingers twisted together. He could see several cuts and scrapes that were red and inflamed. He reached his hand toward her. She flinched.

“I just want to look at your pretty face.”

He touched her chin with his forefinger and tilted it upward. When her tear-filled blue eyes met his, he felt as if he'd been kicked by a horse. She had Laurie's eyes, and her mouth was the same shape. At least he thought it was. It was hard to tell because her lips were swollen and there was the faint shading of a bruise on the side of her face. Someone had slapped her hard.

“Are you gonna take me to hell?”

“No. No one's going to hell.” Except possibly Mrs. Jarvis if she ever showed her face in town again. Justin stood and glanced at Thomas. “From what the woman said, she took the girl to Colleen and was turned away.”

Thomas looked surprised. “I haven't heard of a minister's wife ever doing that.”

“You probably haven't had the pleasure of meeting Colleen Estes yet. You'll be less surprised by this when you do.” Justin glanced out the window. It was already getting dark. “Bonnie needs a place to spend the night.”

Thomas looked panicked and started backing up toward the door. “I'm staying at the boardinghouse, Sheriff. There's eighteen of us to a room. That isn't a place for a little girl.”

“I know.” Justin tried to think of someone in town who could help. Megan flashed through his mind, but he dismissed her. Someone that respectable wouldn't want to be tainted by the daughter of a dance-hall girl.

Beside him, Bonnie shivered. As soon as he'd let go of her chin, she'd gone back to staring at her shoes. He touched her shoulder, and was shocked to feel her bones. “Have you eaten today?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He bit back a curse. There was no one he trusted, no one he could turn to. Looks like the responsibility was his, at least for tonight. “Come on, Bonnie. I'll take you back to my hotel and get you something to eat.” He started toward the door. “Thomas, you wait for Wyatt and find out what he learned. If it's important, come tell me at the hotel, otherwise it can wait until morning. While you're here, see if you can find any information on another murder. It happened about four years ago. Another saloon girl. The two cases may be related.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “How?”

“I don't know,” Justin admitted. “It's just a feeling.” When he reached the door, he realized Bonnie hadn't moved. The little girl stood where he'd left her. She was still staring at her shoes. “Come on, honey. I'm going to take you home with me. You'll have something to eat, and maybe a hot bath.”

Slowly, she raised her head toward him. Big blue eyes shone with terror. “It's going to be all right,” he promised.

She didn't budge. He thought about picking her up, but that would probably scare her more. Besides, she was filthy. He settled for holding out his hand.

“Is there really food?” she asked.

He nodded.

She took several shuffling steps toward him, then shyly reached for his hand. Her fingers were chilled. He bent over and touched her coat. It was threadbare. How could Laurie have left her daughter with that woman? He cursed silently, figuring he would never get an answer now.

He led Bonnie out of the office and toward the hotel. The three-story building was the largest one in town. It had been built in the last year and contained every modern convenience. When he entered, tugging Bonnie along with him, the desk clerk looked up, then turned bright red, as if he were about to have apoplexy.