Night Hawk (13 page)

Upon hearing of the women's limited funds while he and Maggie stood talking with Bunny, Ian offered a solution by pulling out his grandfather's leather pouch and handing the old madam enough gold to buy tickets to take her and the girls wherever they wanted to go.

Bunny stared dumbstruck. “I can't take this.”

Ian didn't respond to that but said instead, “Give the ladies what they need, then settle down for the night. I'll keep watch in case Granger or McQuade decided to make trouble.”

Bunny was still staring at the small pile of gold coins in her palm but finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I doubt that. You scared the hair off them.” She glanced down at her hand once again. “You sure about this?”

Once again, no response.

She shook her head. “Never knew being a marshal paid so well.”

He responded to the humor in her voice with a hint of humor in his eyes.

Maggie was surprised by his generosity, too. Granted he'd been paying for everything since they'd been thrown together, but she'd had no idea he held so much coin. She had to agree with Bunny; being a marshal was way more lucrative than she'd imagined.

When Bunny walked over to where the girls were gathered and told them the news, their whoops and hollers of joy filled the night. They all came over to offer their thanks, even Sylvia, who seemed to be viewing Maggie in a different light. “Is he your man?”

“No. Just an acquaintance.” She didn't look his way.

“Wish I had an acquaintance like him. You married, Marshal?”

Bunny clamped a hand on her arm. “Go back over there and find a seat. Rest of you go with her.”

Maggie hadn't known any of them long enough to call them friends; she didn't even know most of their names, but she was glad that they were no longer under Granger's boot.

Bunny's voice cut into her thoughts. “Maggie, you and your marshal will always have a soft spot in my heart.”

“Thanks, Bunny.”

Bunny walked over to join the girls, leaving Maggie and her marshal alone.

Chapter 13

T
he night songs of the crickets played around them like music and all Maggie wanted to do was look at him, even if it was too dark to see her hand in front of her face. The idea that he was there, and that she was now free, made her soul rejoice. “Quite an entrance you made back there.”

For Ian it was good to have her near again, too. “Wanted to get their attention.”

“You certainly did. Thank you for the rescue.”

“You're welcome. My apologies for putting you in harm's way.” Although they'd only been apart for a few hours, it felt like ten times that.

“You had no way of knowing Granger wasn't being truthful about the wire.”

“He didn't hurt you?”

“No.” She paused for a moment as if thinking back. “Do you think he and McQuade will really do what you told them to?”

“Probably not, which is why I'll be wiring Fort Smith as soon as I get to Denver.”

“Is that where you're going next?”

“Yes.”

They studied each other in the darkness. “What are you going to do now that you're free?”

“Don't rightly know. If the sheriff wants me to stay out of Kansas, I suppose I'll have to, but all the trains connect here.”

“True.”

“Maybe I can find work in Denver, wait six months or so and head back East to Ohio. I don't know.” She sighed. “Add to the fact that I don't have a penny to my name.”

“I can buy your ticket, that isn't a problem.”

“Thank you. I'll pay you back soon as I can, I promise.”

Ian wanted to tell her she was going to Wyoming with him but he doubted that would go over well. “Once you get to Denver I'm sure you'll come up with something.”

“Probably. I also need to change clothes so you'll recognize me from now on.”

“I saw a woman on the stage when I rode in, but didn't know it was you. You look different.”

She bent over and took stock of herself. “I do, don't I?”

“Did Bunny give you the dress and shoes?”

She hesitated for a moment before responding quietly, “No, I had them in my saddlebag.”

Ian tried to see her expression but it was hidden by the darkness.

“Which means of course that I've sung and danced in places like the Red Garter before.” She added. “Carson Epps.”

“So when you joined his troupe this is how he made his money.” It was more statement than question.

“Yes.”

Ian found himself amazed by her once again. How many facets of her were there? Just when he thought he had her figured out, something else about her rocked him back on his heels. “My mother was an actress.”

“Really?”

“Sang, dance, recited. Audiences loved her. She'd've liked you.”

“Because I sing on a stage?”

“There's that, but she'd've been more taken by your spirit.”

“Are you complimenting me, Marshal?”

“I think I am.”

“Then I think I say thank you.”

Ian wanted to sneak her off into the darkness and reacquaint her to the feel of being in his arms, but that would only further complicate matters, and the situation was complicated enough. Standing near her and thinking back on their night together while the wind whispered around them and the moon above played in and out of the clouds, was going to lead to trouble if he didn't back away, so he did. “You go ahead and change clothes. I'll set up here and keep watch.”

She glanced up as if surprised by his abrupt end of their conversation, but instead of speaking to it, she said simply, “Sure.” And walked off.

Ian sighed and removed Smoke's saddle. He patted the stallion affectionately. “Doesn't look like we'll ever make it home, does it, boy? You as tired of getting on and off trains as I am? Promise I'll never take you on a trip like this ever again. Making myself the same promise. In the meantime, what are we going to do about Maggie?”

Smoke had no answer and neither did his rider, so Ian untied his bedroll and prepared to settle in for his watch. Lying back against the saddle, he made himself comfortable and lit a cheroot. As the smoke curled up and drifted off into the night, all he could think about was Maggie.

D
ressed in her shirt, trousers, and battered boots once again, Maggie folded the red dress and carefully wedged it back into her pack along with the stockings and shoes. Using the saddlebag as a pillow and her father's coat as a blanket, she made herself as comfortable as she could on the depot's plank floor and thanked the gods of both her parents for the marshal. Without his intervention there was no way of knowing how long Granger might have held her prisoner. Now she was free from everything, and still giddy because of it, but the marshal remained on her mind. He'd broken off their conversation back there rather sharply and she wasn't sure why. It might have helped had she been able to see his face, but even in full light she had a tough time discerning his thoughts, and in the darkness it was impossible. While they'd stood talking his presence brought back the memories of the night they'd spent together. Her senses bloomed recalling the thrill of his kisses and the heat in his touch. She wondered if he'd been remembering, too, and if that might have been the reason for the quick retreat. Did he not want to be reminded, or were the memories as potent as her own? The woman in her wanted it to be the latter. That woman also wanted to be loved by him again, even though keeping her distance made more sense because he'd soon be gone from her life.

The rest of the women from the Red Garter were spread out nearby. A few, like Bunny, were already asleep. Others seemed to be lying silently and minding their own thoughts. It was a warm May night, so there was no danger of frost, and if it rained, the long flat roof above their heads would keep them dry. She raised up to see if she could see him out in the grass. The moon slipped free of the clouds just long enough to illuminate him before it disappeared and plunged him back into the darkness. All that remained was the faint glow of his cigar. The woman inside hoped he was thinking of her.

T
he depot agent arrived for work early the next morning and the sight of the women made him stop and stare.

Ian intercepted him and after introducing himself explained, “The ladies are under my escort.”

“You're the marshal everyone's talking about this morning. The good people in Abilene have been trying to get that place closed down for years. Been trying to get rid of Granger, too, but he was handpicked by McQuade and there was nothing any of us could do.”

“I asked them both to resign. Figure they won't so I'll send a few wires when I get to Denver and have the courts look into those two.”

“Thanks, Marshal. Let's get these tickets issued so you and the ladies will be ready to board when the train arrives.”

The agent's name was Lerner and with his help the process went smoothly. By the time the train pulled in, everyone in Ian's party was lined up and ready to board the westbound train for Denver.

The conductor stepped off and Ian was surprised to see it was the same redhead who'd been on the train when Ian's journey with Maggie first began.

The man peered around at all the women. “This harem yours, Marshal?”

The glare he received made him swallow visibly. “Um, well, you all will have to ride in the smokers' car. Don't think I have enough seats up front.”

“That's fine, just get us on board.”

They got on moments later. None of the colorfully dressed women paid any attention to the shock and disapproval on the faces of the other passengers as they made their way to the smoking car. It wasn't the first time they'd been sneered at.

Inside the car was already crowded with card players and other men smoking and drinking. As the women filed in, the faces of the men widened with delight and then someone began to applaud. The rest joined in and the ladies from the Red Garter smiled in reply.

Ian searched the men's faces for any that he might know were wanted by the law or he'd had run-ins with in the past. He felt responsible for the women now and wanted to make certain none of them came to harm. None of the men he saw fit either category so he relaxed. They were all still eyeing Bunny and her girls though, and he knew it would be just a matter of time before one of them got up the courage to make an approach. In the meantime, he found a seat in the back, took out the Sherlock Holmes novel he had in his saddlebag, and settled in to read and keep a discreet eye on the woman he wanted to protect the most. The trip to Denver would take the better part of three days, what with stopping to take on more passengers, fuel, water, and mail. He hoped to give her the space she needed to figure out her future and for him to figure out how to contend with his future without her.

Just as the train began pulling away from the depot, the gambler Frank Denton entered the car. Denton gave Ian a nod and walked over to join a card game.

One of the men produced a banjo and soon the car was awash in singing, laughter, and gaiety. Over the course of the next few hours word must have gotten around because the presence of the girls began drawing men to the car from other areas of the train, probably much to the displeasure of their wives traveling with them, Ian supposed.

Over his book, he watched Maggie sitting with Bunny and enjoying the singing. To his surprise she stood and added to the entertainment with a song of her own. In a pure soprano voice that had everyone in the car enthralled, she offered up the haunting tale of a woman waiting for her love to come home from the war. She sang of the woman's anguish, and her broken heart when the news came that her love had been killed. Ian saw Bunny dab at her eyes and a few of the men did the same. When the final beautiful note faded into the silence, thunderous applause broke out. Eyes sparkling, she curtsied in her trousers and retook her seat. When she glanced over his way, he gave her a nod of approval and was once again rocked on his heels by another fascinating facet of Miss Maggie Freeman.

Ian noticed the eyes of a young Black man watching her as well. He'd been seated at one of the tables when Ian and the women walked in. His nice brown suit and clean-cut manner made Ian assume him to be well employed or of good family, or both. During her song, he'd stared at Maggie unabashedly.

And now he was approaching the table where she was seated. Ian watched Bunny give him a smile and gestured an invitation for him to sit and join them. He accepted, and as they spoke Maggie gifted him with her beautiful smile.

“Who are you glaring at?”

Ian looked up to see Frank Denton standing by his chair.

“Nobody.”

Denton turned his eyes in the direction Ian had been looking and upon seeing Maggie in conversation with the young man at the table, shook his head knowingly and sat down, saying “I see.”

“I don't remember inviting you over.”

Denton grinned as he took a pull from the drink in his glass. “I don't either. Just came to relay my family's thanks for what we heard happened at the saloon last night.”

Ian was only half listening because he was watching Maggie. Bunny had moved on to another table, leaving her and her well-dressed companion alone.

Denton said amusedly, “There's no cure for that, you know.”

“For what?”

“Longing after a woman who's all you can see.”

“Don't you have a card game somewhere?”

Amusement flashed across his thin face. “Thanks again.”

“You're welcome.”

Maggie was enjoying the pleasant conversation she was having with the young man who introduced himself as Justin Taylor. He was from Boston and studying to be a doctor at Meharry, the Black medical college established in Tennessee in 1876. He was journeying to Denver to apprentice with an established doctor. Taylor was well spoken, his manner polite and his smile engaging. As he talked about his studies, she found herself wondering what it might be like to have such a man for a husband. He was presently unmarried, but after his apprenticeship, if he was successful in establishing his own practice, taking a wife would be his next step, he'd revealed. She thought the wife of a doctor would be very respected by members of the community and would undoubtedly have a fine house to oversee, and a servant or two to help with things. She'd probably wear nice clothing and be able to pause now and again to read a book. More than likely she'd be able to plant flowers and vegetables; all of which Maggie dreamed of having, but in real life a potential doctor wouldn't seek out a former prisoner and saloon singer for such an honor. Not that he moved her. He was polite and very good-looking, but she didn't sense any heat beneath his polished exterior. In her pretend world, marrying him might be rewarding for her pocketbook, but she wasn't sure about her bed. Having spent a night in the marshal's strong arms, she knew now how moving it could be, and the heat and fire was something she wanted from a husband no matter his station. Life with a man like Justin would be safe and secure. There'd be no shoot-outs with bitter old men or the need to mount rescues.

He interrupted her thoughts by saying, “I'm not accustomed to so much smoke. Would you like to step outside for some air?”

Around them the saloonlike atmosphere in the car continued. Some of the girls had found partners and were up dancing to the banjo. She spotted Sylvia seated on a gentleman's lap while he played cards. They both looked tipsy.

“Um.” She cast a quick glance at the marshal. He was seated in the shadows by the door but she knew that he was watching, had been watching.

“I'm not trying to be forward, I just thought it would be nice to breathe some clean air.”

She looked at the marshal again. “Sure, thanks.”

As they stood and headed to the door that led to the outside platform, she saw the marshal put down his book. As they approached, he stood. Maggie hoped he wouldn't interfere.