True to the Law (37 page)

“Why did he think—”

“Because it’s what I wanted him to think. I wanted to welcome you first. It will be better if you and I reach our own understanding before you speak to your cousin.”

Frank’s spine straightened. His chin jutted forward. “If it’s an understanding you want, Mr. Bridger, you’ve laid a poor foundation for it. This is more of an abduction than a negotiation. Take me to the hotel now, and I won’t report you to the police.”

“We’re not in Chicago. There are no police.”

“Whatever passes for the authorities, then. I won’t report you to the authorities.”

“Is that what you do when you don’t get your way? Make reports?” When Mackey did not reply, he climbed a few rungs in Cobb’s estimation. It was unfortunate, Cobb thought, that the younger man started so low on the ladder and that the ladder was so long.

“I don’t know the exact nature of your business here,” said Cobb. “I don’t think Andrew does either. You can explain it to him. I don’t care. I just want to be clear that you are to keep your distance from Miss Morrow. If she’s coming toward you on the street, you cross to the other side. If you see her dining in the hotel, you wait until she’s gone before you take a seat. Don’t walk in a store if you know she’s in there, and if you don’t know, walk out the moment you see her. Give yourself thirty yards distance from the schoolhouse and twice that around her home. The town has one church. If you’re inclined to attend, go to Rawlins.”

Franklin Mackey did not look away. He returned Cobb’s level stare. “That’s the understanding?”

“It is. If something else occurs to me, I’ll let you know.”

Frank’s narrow-lipped smile was both amused and derisive. “She’s a witch, isn’t she?”

“What?”

“Trudy Morrow. She’s a witch. Not the Salem, Massachusetts, burn-at-the-stake variety. I’m speaking of the witchery that called to Ulysses from the rocks, although I don’t suppose you’d know Homer’s epic.”

“Sirens. You’d suppose wrong.” Cobb watched as Frank made a second assessment. He held still for it because it amused him.

Frank said, “I know when she’s put a spell on a man. I’ve seen it before, and I’d say she’s done some of her finest work on you. That’s the only thing that explains this . . . this
understanding
.”

“Do we have one, Mr. Mackey? I don’t care what you think about it. I only care that you abide by it.”

Frank shrugged. “It doesn’t sound very hard. Now, if you’d asked me to give up drinking, that would have been a hardship. I’m here to see Andrew, and if Trudy Morrow had two words to say about it, they were both a lie.”

“Do we have an understanding?”

“I thought that’s what I just said.”

“Be clearer.”

“Then, yes, Mr. Bridger, we have an understanding.”

Cobb nodded, gave the mare her lead, and returned to the main thoroughfare. Without another word passing between them, he escorted Frank to the Pennyroyal, helped Walt with the trunks, and lingered at the front desk long enough to make sure that Mrs. Sterling got twenty-one dollars. He noticed she didn’t hesitate to take it up, but when Frank was turned away, her unflappable expression vanished, and Cobb felt her regarding him with something more than mere astonishment. He thought she might be starting to believe he
did
walk on water.

Winking at her, he turned to go. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say in church, Ida Mae.”

* * *

Tru saw Cobb talking to Mrs. Burnside and Mrs. Taylor across the street as she was leaving the schoolhouse. They appeared deeply engaged in conversation. She raised her hand in greeting in the event they noticed her, but none of them returned it. Tru looped her scarf around her neck a second time and began walking. Her skirt glided over the crusty edge of frozen snow until she stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of Johnson’s mercantile.

She stood in front of one of the mercantile’s large windows for a time and debated the merits of going inside. Jenny was expecting her, but Mr. Johnson had already seen her and was hurrying forward to open the door. It was not the kind of invitation she could ignore.

Tru was admiring a bolt of sage green damask when the door opened again. She didn’t look up until she heard the familiar rhythm of stamping feet that she associated with Cobb.

“Hello, Marshal,” she said politely as he closed the door behind him.

“Miss Morrow.” He touched the brim of his hat. “George.”

“Cobb.” George Johnson pointed to the array of large glass jars filled with every sort of candy on the counter. “Fresh licorice. And some of that saltwater taffy you’re partial to.”

“Nothing for me today.” He reached in his pocket and set a half-dollar on the counter. “Fill up a bag and send it over to the schoolhouse at the end of the day tomorrow.”

“Sure thing.” George swept the coin off the counter and added it to his register. It was only as an afterthought that he addressed Tru. “Is that all right with you, Miss Morrow?”

“It’s fine.” She had returned to studying the damask. She ran her fingertips along the length of the bolt. “The end of the day, though. That’s important.” She glanced at Cobb. “That was a generous gesture, Marshal. The children will appreciate your kindness.”

“What about their teacher?”

Behind the counter, George Johnson stopped squaring off a stack of catalogs. His head came up, and his deep-set eyes darted from Cobb to Tru and back again.

Setting her jaw, Tru gave Cobb a pointed look. Somewhat stiffly, she said, “As a rule, their teacher appreciates kindness.”

“Enough to permit me to walk her home?”

Tru wondered if her father would still think her eyes were a merry shade of green when they were frozen over. She failed to keep her tone as neutral as she would have liked. It was an understatement to say that butter would not have melted in her mouth. “Thank you, but I am not going home.”

Cobb’s shrug was careless and easy. “That’s all right. It would be my pleasure to walk with you wherever you’re going.”

Tru was aware of the mercantile owner’s curiosity in their conversation. He did not even make an attempt to pretend interest in something else. Instead, he was leaning in, his forearms resting on the countertop, his head cocked slightly to one side.

Tru strove to remain polite if not warm. “I’m sure you have more important matters to attend.”

“More important than providing an escort for everyone’s favorite teacher? I don’t have anything like that waiting for me.”

George Johnson chuckled. “There is nobody going to fault you if you did.”

“Mr. Johnson,” Tru said. “Please.” She set down the bolt of damask. “I’m only going to Jenny’s.”

Cobb did not mistake that for an invitation, but when Tru turned to go, he and Mr. Johnson exchanged a grin before he followed her out.

“What was that about?” Tru asked when Cobb caught up to her. She did not look at him and pulled her elbow away when he tried to take it.

Cobb let his hand fall back to his side. “What? Asking if I could walk you home?”

“Yes. Not only asking, but the
way
you asked it. And in front of Mr. Johnson.”

“Would you have preferred that I loiter outside the store until you came out? The town council discourages loitering.”

“They do not.” She pointed down the street where three of the town’s leaders were huddled in deep discussion in front of the land office.

“Oh. Well, I’ll take that up with them later.”

His thickheaded pretense annoyed her to the point she wanted to stop and stamp her feet, and if she crushed his toes, so much the better. Her irritation was barely in check when she said, “You gave Mr. Johnson the impression that you were courting me.”

“You think so?”

“You know you did.”

“I admit it was my intention. Good to know that I was successful.”

His confession stopped Tru in her tracks. She flung out an arm to stop him as well. “We agreed that it’s better if Andrew doesn’t know about us.”

“Better?”

“Safer, then.”

Cobb turned to face her. “It’s your safety I care about. I never agreed to ignore that. Andrew Mackey suspects our mutual interest. He has from the first. I don’t see the purpose of hiding it any longer. And now that Frank’s here, it’s not only prudent for people to know my intentions, it’s necessary.”

The only color in Tru’s face was the one pressed into her cheeks by the cold. “Frank’s here?”

Cobb nodded. “An hour or so ago.”

“You should have told me right away.”

“In front of Mr. Johnson so he could see you look like death? I think my way was better.” He took Tru’s gloved hands in his. She did not try to shake him off this time. “Listen to me. Only you and I know that I’ve asked you to marry me. What I agreed to was to wait for your answer, your real answer, until you’re satisfied that you know what Andrew wants. There’s no reason to let him continue suspecting. He needs to know that he has a rival.”

Tru searched his face and could not keep the distress out of hers. “You’re provoking him. It’s that very thing I wanted to avoid.”

“I know. But you can’t have your way this time, not with Frank here. I want the Mackeys to know that you’re not alone.”

“What have you done, Cobb?”

He didn’t protest his innocence or pretend he didn’t understand. He released her hands and placed one of his behind her back. With the slightest pressure, he encouraged her to begin walking again. “I met Frank’s train at the station. We had a cordial discussion, and he agreed to my terms. We reached an understanding before we passed the stockyard. He also paid Mrs. Sterling three times what she wanted to charge him for sharing the third floor rooms with Andrew.”

Tru did not allow herself to be sidetracked by Cobb’s final tidbit. She kept on walking. They were almost to the bakery. “What terms?”

“Simple ones. I told him to stay away from you and explained exactly how he was supposed to go about it.”

“And he agreed to that?”

“He said it would have been harder if I’d told him to give up drinking.”

“That’s something at least. Perhaps that means I am no longer the apple of his eye.”

“Even if you are, he’d be better off not acting on it.”

Tru let Cobb help her down from the sidewalk so they could cross the street to Jenny’s. “I wish you’d told me what you had planned.”

“And you know why I didn’t.”

“I have a right to disagree with you, Cobb.”

“I know. You exercise that right frequently.” He held her back so she didn’t walk directly into a wagon being driven by Matthew Sharp. He waved Matt on to indicate there was no harm done while he helped Tru recover her balance. “Careful. It’s damned inconvenient if you throw yourself under a wagon wheel.”

Tru added her weaker wave to Cobb’s as Matt continued to look back. She could hardly believe she had been oblivious to the wagon bearing down on them, but there it was going up the street and Cobb still had her firmly by the waist. “Are Mrs. Burnside and Mrs. Taylor still talking?” she asked.

Cobb looked to where he had left the ladies. “They are.”

“And the councilmen? Still huddled in front of the land office?”

He nodded. “Only their jaws are moving.”

“Jenny?”

Cobb’s eyes shifted to the bakery where Jenny was standing in the window in anticipation of Tru’s arrival.

“And Mr. Sharp?”

“He’s looking where he’s going now. Not at us.”

“That’s too bad,” she said quietly.

“Too bad?”

She smiled, lifted her face, and rose up on her toes. She put her arms around his neck. “He’s going to miss this.”

This
was a very thorough, very public kiss, and the news of it occupied the good citizens of Bitter Springs for the better part of the evening.

Chapter Fourteen

Andrew Mackey made no effort to hide his displeasure. It irritated him further that Frank either did not notice or did not care. He turned away from the drinks cabinet with a whiskey in hand and merely indicated that if Frank was parched, he could fend for himself.

“I certainly will,” said Frank. He heaved himself out of the overstuffed chair and took Andrew’s place at the cabinet. “It is my sincere hope that the liquor here does not cause blindness.”

Andrew took up the chair that Franklin had vacated. “I don’t know anything about the Coltranes except that this is their residence when they visit and that they stock excellent whiskey.”

“Good.” Frank glanced over as he poured his drink and saw that Andrew was sitting where he had been. “Petty.”

Andrew shrugged. “I’ve come to think of it as my chair.”

“You could have said so.” Frank tasted the whiskey, made approving noises, and moved to the couch. He sat in one corner with his arm across the back, his legs crossed. “I feel much better now. I appreciate you restraining yourself long enough to permit me to scrub off the stink of travel and change my clothes. I’m in anticipation of a lecture, so please, by all means, begin and have done.”

“Go home, Frank.”

Franklin knuckled his chin, a slight smile lifting the narrow line of his lips. He waited. Finally one of his ginger eyebrows arched, and he asked, “That’s what you have to say? Go home?”

“I find a concise message is apt to be less confusing.”

“Ah. I see that drink still sharpens your wit, not dulls it. How many times did you go to the bottle while I was in the bathing room?”

Andrew did not deign to answer. “If I had met you at the station, you would be back on that train.”

Frank just shook his head, and the look he gave Andrew was pitying. “Then it is unfortunate that Mr. Bridger was there to greet me instead of you.” He shrugged. “But I don’t believe you anyway. The proprietress of this establishment was expecting me. She said as much when I registered.”

“A precaution in the event you proved resistant to taking my advice.”

“Resistant? That train was going west to Salt Lake and Sacramento. Short of stuffing me in one of my own trunks, you could not have persuaded me to step foot on it again, at least not before I bathed and imbibed.”

“And now that you’ve done both? Stuffing you is tempting.”

“We’ll see,” said Frank. “I’m not going anywhere tomorrow. I’ve only just unpacked.”

“Good. That means there will be room in a trunk.”

“Did you or did you not ask if there were volunteers to go to Bitter Springs in your place?” When Andrew said nothing, Frank went on. “So you do remember. It is good of you not to pretend otherwise.”

“I also recall that no one responded.”

“I can’t speak for the rest of the family, but I required some time to consider it.”

“There’s a damn lie. You don’t consider. You have never done anything but act on the impulse of the moment.”

Frank’s slight smile appeared above the rim of his glass before he sipped. “How like Aunt Charlotte you sound. I wondered which one of us would embrace the moral sniping she was so fond of. A family like ours needs such a person, don’t you think? I had thought it would be Lavinia. Uncle Paul has never had the stomach for it, and Jackson is not such a hypocrite. I do believe, however, that you are more suited to the role than dear Lavinia.”

“Shut up, Frank.”

“My God, but you’re peckish.” He looked around. “Is there some method of ringing the help? I would be glad for a sandwich.”

Andrew explained the limits of the Pennyroyal’s hospitality. “You will have to wait until they begin serving dinner. It’s likely that you’ll see Miss Morrow there. It’s her habit to eat in the dining room on Thursdays.”

Frank’s cheeks puffed a bit as he exhaled. “That presents something of a problem, at least for me. Mr. Bridger has strongly suggested that I make a sincere effort to avoid Trudy.”

Andrew set his glass down. “Say that again.”

Frank did, and this time added the details of the mostly one-sided conversation. “Oh, and I nearly forgot. He said he is no longer working for you. I took that to mean that he is no longer working for the family since that was at the core of the agreement we had with you. Based on what he had to say after that, I assumed he was telling the truth. I don’t know how he thinks he will be able to enforce what amounted to an edict, but I am too fatigued to challenge him this evening. Trudy’s influence was more conspicuous the longer he spoke, but we’ve always known how capable she is in that regard.”

“Indeed.” Andrew looked down and casually brushed at a nearly invisible piece of lint on his jacket lapel. “Did Mr. Bridger mention who employs him now?”

“No.” Frank actually smiled as it came to him. “It’s Trudy, isn’t it? Just when I think we comprehend the lengths she will go to, I discover we have underestimated her cunning. It’s brilliant, actually. I only wish I had anticipated it. How is it that you didn’t, Andrew? You tend to be more clear-eyed than the rest of us where Miss Morrow is concerned.”

Andrew finally looked up from examining his lapel. His voice was flat. “You’re wrong. Bridger doesn’t work for her. Not directly. He works for the town. Our private detective is currently the marshal of Bitter Springs. I think that suggests how he will be able to enforce his edict.”

Frank’s mobile eyebrows arched dramatically. “Marshal. How did he manage that?”

“With Miss Morrow’s help. I have it from her and several others as well that she put in a word for him with the mayor. Apparently the position was vacant for some time.”

“Brilliant,” Frank said softly.

“I don’t mind giving Miss Morrow her due, Frank, but this was more serendipitous than brilliant. She didn’t know about Bridger’s connection to the family when she made the recommendation.”

“Did she tell you that?” He put up a hand. “No, don’t bother. I can tell that she did. And you believed her. That is what surprises, Andrew. You’re making my case for me. I
need
to be here. If she pulls any more wool over your eyes you’ll be mistaken for a sheep. It’s a sad fact that it will take both of us to manage this. That is what was wrong with your plan from the beginning. This was never something you could do alone.”

“Make no mistake, Franklin. Even if I believed that, I wouldn’t have chosen you.”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re closer than brothers. I know that because I have one. One pod. Two peas. Even Aunt Charlotte said so, and she was never wrong.”

“She never
thought
she was wrong. There’s a difference.”

Frank shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. You would have gone through the list of candidates—a short list, I must add—and chosen me in the end. And you know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because I will do whatever it takes. I won’t argue or hesitate. I will act if you don’t. That’s why I’m here.” He finished his whiskey and rolled the tumbler between his palms. “Since we’re not going to be able to go to dinner soon, suppose you tell me how far you’ve come. Can I assume that Bridger is at the very least a fly in the ointment?”

“He is.”

“He’s clearly protective of her. That seems to come out of genuine feeling for Miss Morrow. Is it your impression that she returns his feelings?”

“It is. I make no judgment about her sincerity.”

“So what you’ve observed may be a pretense.”

“Of course.”

“But you have spoken to her, haven’t you? You’ve certainly had enough time for that.”

“The first evening.”

“The first evening?” Frank’s tone was rife with disbelief and scorn. “That was precipitous. Remember that when you are on the verge of calling me impulsive. Good Lord, Andrew, you have the experience of three engagements to draw on. Did you even try to woo her?”

“That would only have raised her suspicions. I chose a different tack. I told her that I thought I had made my interest and intentions clear when we were in Chicago.”

“You said that? Christ, your interest was getting her into bed and your intentions were to make her your mistress. I bet she pitched that back in your face.”

Heat colored Andrew’s fair complexion. “I apologized for that.”

“I doubt that she believed you even if she said she did. You play apology like a trump card when you can’t follow suit. Sometimes you need to throw off, Andrew. Sacrifice the trick to see the other person’s cards. Lose a hand, win the game.”

“As opposed to you, Frank, who showed your hand when you tried to rape her.”

“It wasn’t rape.”

“Because I was there. Don’t forget that. She hasn’t.”

“She brought it up?”

“Yes. I’m inclined to agree with Bridger. You would do well to keep your distance.”

“We’ll see. In regard to the alleged attempted rape, your memory is conveniently incomplete.” He shook his head. “No, don’t make excuses for yourself now. You may need them for Trudy, and they will sound more sincere if they’re not practiced.” He rose to get himself another drink. “I’d offer to pour another for you, Andrew, but I believe you’re at least one ahead of me.” When he returned to the sofa, he asked, “Did she give you an answer?”

“She hasn’t refused me.”

“Then she hasn’t given you an answer. Be precise. You taught me that, you know.” He raised his glass, smiled at his cousin. “I’m sorry. I’m testing your patience. We are on the same side. The Mackey side. I haven’t forgotten that. Did she indicate when she would have an answer?”

“No. But she was clear that if I pressed my suit, she would not respond in my favor.”

Frank sighed. “That
is
a problem. Time is not our friend.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t hold out hope that she won’t be found eventually. Naturally, without the same assistance you lent Mr. Bridger that has proven to be more difficult.”

“Yes.”

“Again, it’s foolish to be too hopeful. You know, Andrew, contrary to what you think, I’ve been reconsidering your plan. I may be one of Princeton’s recent graduates, but I was also one of its best. By any definition, the scheme you hope to implement comes perilously close to fraud with you as its perpetrator. I am concerned that you, and by extension we, are in at least as much trouble if she says yes as if she says no. Marrying her without fully disclosing what Aunt Charlotte did might only be the beginning of new problems, not the ending of old ones.”

When Andrew made no reply, Frank continued. “Have you been inside her home?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something. Did you find anything to support our contention?”

“That she’s a thief?”

“That she’s a witch.” He chuckled when Andrew’s mouth flattened in disapproval. “Of course that she’s a thief.”

“No. That would require being in her home when she’s not there. That opportunity hasn’t presented itself.”

“You can’t wait for it. You have to make it.”

“I understand that, but Miss Morrow has watchful neighbors.”

“Nosy.”

“If you like.”

“Well, that limits our options. I could take a look myself and risk being found out, or we can do what I think is our prudent choice at this juncture.”

“What is that?”

“Kill her, of course. We are all agreed that she ceases to be a problem if she is dead.”

* * *

Ted Rush paused at Cobb and Tru’s table on his way to join his friends. “I was fixin’ to stake all my money on the fact that it was Mr. Mackey who had Miss Morrow’s attention, what with the suspicion folks have that he must have come here to make a declaration. I guess it’s a good thing I never got around to pullin’ that money out of my mattress. I heard it was a hell of a kiss.” He gulped guiltily at Tru. “Sorry, Miss Morrow. Didn’t mean to cuss. Just come over me.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Rush.” She crooked a finger at him. When he bent closer, she whispered in his ear, “It
was
a hell of a kiss.”

Ted’s grin split his face as he straightened. “You’re blushing, Miss Morrow. I always did figure you for a modest woman.” He felt Cobb nudge him. “I’m goin’. No point in hangin’ back with a pair of lovebirds. There’s no conversation for an outsider there.”

When he was gone, Cobb gave Tru a level look. “This is your fault. I don’t think anyone but Jenny saw that you initiated that kiss. Ted would have to revise his opinion of you as a modest woman otherwise. Same as I’ve had to do. What did you whisper to him anyway?”

She smiled primly. “I’m not saying.”

“I don’t think there is anyone here who hasn’t heard about that kiss.”

Tru looked around and returned several knowing glances with a brief smile. “Andrew isn’t here. I suppose he wanted to dine with Frank. When do you think he’ll hear about it?”

“As soon as Miss Ross finds an excuse to leave the dining room to tell him.”

Tru sighed. “You’re probably right. Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken to her about Andrew. I’m afraid I left her with the impression that I was her competition.”

“She would have thought that regardless. She heard the rumors.”