Into the Light (22 page)

A sign leaned against one wall, “Hubbell Automobile Company.” Deborah stood on dirt still flecked with bits of straw and hay. A pile of lumber loomed next to the door. Wood flooring covered the back third of the building, and two men worked along the edge, fitting more boards, nailing them down.

She stood there, watching, no longer sure the idea that had brought her here was a good one — or smart — or safe. Too late. One of the men straightened and saw her. The two exchanged words, and one came toward her. She recognized Jamie Lenahan as the man who had been with Trey at the ice cream parlor, but that day she’d had eyes only for Trey.

Lenahan had none of Trey’s chiseled elegance. The Irishman was handsome all right, but more like the men in her own family, rawboned, all the subtlety of a bull. He eyed her the way the men she’d passed on her way here had, with the same consideration cats gave mice.

Deborah took a step back, then stopped. Had she come all this way only to run at the first contemptuous glance?

He stopped a few feet from her. “I’m guessing you’re Miss Deborah Sutton.”

“Yes, and you’re Trey’s friend, Mr. Lenahan. Have you heard what happened last night?”

“I have. A few whacks on his hard head, and he’s fine.”

“I thought you were his friend.”

“We’re reconsidering that at the moment.”

Deborah looked around the big empty space, the pile of lumber, the new sign. “He’s helping you start your business.”

“He financed the whole thing.”

She hadn’t realized Trey was so deeply involved. “Then you owe him.”

“There’s owing, and there’s owing. We’ll repay the money debt.”

“Don’t you care that he was almost killed?”

“Do you? Why don’t you have a talk with your killer cousin?”

“My... Oh, for goodness sake, Caleb would never try to kill someone with a pipe. He hasn’t killed anyone for years, and when he did, he shot them. He
likes
Trey, although why anyone would like that pigheaded idiot is beyond me. His sister Alice is the problem, and he’s not going to do anything about it because he doesn’t want her in prison, even though she should be. She should be hung. I thought you were his friend, and you’d help me since he’s too stubborn to do it himself, but since you’re
reconsidering
, I apologize for wasting your time.”

She turned away, already debating the wisdom of enlisting Caleb’s help, when Lenahan said, “Wait a minute. He told you his sister is behind these attacks?”

“When we first met, when we were — friendly strangers — he told me his sister wished him dead, and he doesn’t deny she’s behind the attacks now, he just says he can’t be certain.”

Lenahan frowned. “When he talked to me, he said he thought some of the ranch hands had taken a dislike. Your family has reasons to hate his and so do others in this town. The only time he talked about his sister he said he hoped she had a son who could inherit the ranch.”

“Well, he admitted to me his sister wants that ranch and everything else so much she threatened to kill him.”

“Why would she have to kill him for it? He and his father can’t stand the sight of each other. Trey’s gone from there for good and ugly words between them.”

“Ugly words aren’t enough. Webster Van Cleve is as stubborn as Trey, and he believes in primogeniture as surely as any poxy old European king. Trey is still first in line to inherit the V Bar C and everything else, in spite of the fact they’re estranged. Even if Alice accepts she can never have it outright herself, her son can have it.”

The moment the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. She was talking to an Irish laborer, not Trey or Peter Richmond.

“It’s the law in Ireland, you know,” Lenahan said. “The law for Catholics at least. My da was a third son. It’s the priesthood, starving, or America. I always appreciated he chose America.”

She was as much a snob as Miriam. She couldn’t meet the bright blue eyes. “Well, that’s who and that’s why. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

“Trey would skin me if I let you walk home from here by yourself. Come on, now. I’ll go with you at least part of the way.”

“No, you won’t. You’re too busy spending Trey’s money.” She waved at the pile of lumber, taking satisfaction from the way Lenahan’s nostrils flared and eyes narrowed.

Before she reached the first corner, Deborah heard his footsteps behind her. She whirled to face Lenahan. “I can’t stop you from following me, but if you touch me, I’ll scream.”

“Sure you will, and dozens of fine fellows will rush to your rescue. Suppose you tell me what it is you want from me.”

“I want help to hire a guard.”

“A guard. For
Trey?”

His incredulous tone annoyed her even more. “Not to stand over him with a gun. Someone to watch from a distance and, and help him when something happens again.”

“You want to set a guard to watch over him without telling him? What do you think is going to happen when he finds out?”

“He’ll be angry with me, and I don’t care. He can’t be any angrier than I am right now.”

A slow smile spread across Lenahan’s handsome face. “A man who wants a sneaky woman deserves what he gets, I say. Do you have money to pay this watchdog?”

“I do.” She thought she did. Except for the cost of her purse and a few new dresses, she had almost all her overgenerous salary from the day she had started at the paper.

“All right. I’ll find you men. It will take more than one, you know, or he’ll figure it out that much quicker.”

Deborah tried to hide her relief. She didn’t want her family involved in this, and telling one Sutton was the same as telling all of them.

A
T THE SOUND
of a knock, Trey shuffled to the door in his robe and slippers. A hotel waiter carried in soup, toast, and tea as expected. Unexpected was the sight of Jamie Lenahan, giving the room a thorough examination as the waiter set the dishes on the small table by the window.

The door had no more than shut, leaving the two of them alone, than Jamie said, “This place looks like the kind that has ‘No Irish or Dogs’ signs back East, but they were so impressed with my superior tailoring, they decided to let me in.”

Trey sat down to eat and watched Jamie bounce on the bed a few times, testing.

“It’s a step up from my room, that’s for sure,” Jamie said.

“The facilities are better, but the company isn’t.”

“I’m moving up too, you know. Nolan and Maura have rented a nice little house with a room for me.”

“Good. Good for all of you.”

Neither of them said anything while Trey ate soup, buttered toast.

“I’ve come to apologize. I should never have said what I did, and now that I’ve met the lady, I’m twice as sorry. She’s a fine lady. I wish you luck.”

Trey choked on the last of his soup and coughed while Jamie pounded him on the back. When he could draw a breath, he gasped. “You saw her?”

“We were in the same part of town, stopped, and talked a while. A fine lady, beautiful, friendly.”

He was up to something. If Trey knew anything, he knew from the innocent expression on Jamie’s face that he was up to something.

“What did you talk about?” Trey said suspiciously.

“You. She’s a little upset with you, but that won’t last once the bruises fade. You are a sight to frighten small children and old ladies, you know.”

“I know. What else did she say?”

“Oh, how she likes working at the paper and living in town, things like that.”

If Trey didn’t know of Jamie’s determination to marry only a Catholic girl, he’d be worried. The man was too good looking to be safe. “Didn’t you tell me before you went back East that you’d finally found a girl of your own? When is the wedding? Am I invited?”

“The faithless girl couldn’t do without a man for a few months and found someone else. I’m lucky I found out before any wedding.”

“You don’t look broken-hearted.”

Jamie leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, serious now. “I’ll make some woman a decent husband some day, but a heart has to be softer than mine to break. Now what are you planning to do to keep yourself in one piece for Miss Sutton?”

Trey shook his head. “Watch every shadow again, I suppose. Maybe it’s all a coincidence. The cut reins could have been one of the ranch hands who didn’t like the boss’s prodigal son showing up and giving orders. The wagon could have been a drunk, and last night he called me a rich bastard. Maybe he figured to knock me out and rob me at his leisure.”

“Miss Sutton is right. You are a stubborn idiot, and she has a notion your sister was behind the man with the pipe. Why would she think that?”

“I said something I shouldn’t have once in a fanciful moment. It’s probably that ranch hand I fired. Lenny Somebody.”

“This hot-tempered young fellow would pay somebody else to go after you with a pipe?”

“Maybe not.” Trey made a face and pushed the teacup away, wishing for coffee and a steak. “I tried to keep hold of the man last night, but I couldn’t. If he tries to see the doctor, we’ll find out who he is.”

“He’s in as bad shape as you then?”

“Worse, but he can hide it better. He broke the cane, and I got him in the goolies at least twice with the broken handle.”

“They’ll be wise to you now. You’re nothing but bully bait, you are.”

Unsure if that was a compliment or insult, Trey shrugged and changed the subject. They talked about the automobiles and the type of men who had bought the first four. Jamie left when Trey’s eyelids started drooping.

Trey sprawled out in the bed, any chance of sleep destroyed by a sudden vision of what could have happened if Deborah had been with him last night. Until he could catch one of these incompetent assassins and find out who was behind the attacks, it would be better to let her stay upset and angry.

Her whole family planned to gather at the Sutton farm for Christmas. Much as he hated the thought, if Deborah decided to go into hiding out there again, she’d at least be safe. Maybe absence would make her heart grow fonder. He grimaced at the ceiling.

And he’d better find out what Jamie was up to, probably something harmless, but better to know than wake up to dozens of automobiles in the street one morning.

D
EBORAH SPENT THE
rest of the day at the
Herald’s
office. Unable to write a coherent sentence, she practiced on the typewriter, doing the mindless, repetitive exercises set out in a booklet she’d found in a desk drawer. Peter puttered in the back room, without any more purpose, and they both greeted four o’clock with relief.

As she stepped outside, damp air bit through her winter coat, sending a shiver up her spine. Dark clouds hastened the coming of the winter night. She hoped the storm would pass quickly, leaving only a few inches of snow. More than that, and the Christmas trip home to Aunt Em and Uncle Jason would be in jeopardy.

Three men leaning against the hardware store straightened as she approached. Her steps faltered until she recognized Jamie Lenahan’s tall form. They all stopped on the walk, assessing one another.

The men with Lenahan were older, closer to fifty than thirty, as Irish as shamrocks, their thick bodies emphasized by heavy winter clothing. The men knew what she wanted and had already agreed to work for a sum so paltry she almost offered more.

Shanahan would watch for Trey to leave the hotel in the morning. Maguire would take over at noon, and they would trade off from then on, giving each other time to warm up, eat, and sleep. If they were careful, maybe Trey wouldn’t notice the same men nearby every day. Deborah started to give them instructions, caught Lenahan’s slight headshake, and held herself to a polite thank you.

The men tipped their caps and disappeared into the gathering gloom. Lenahan said, “It’s getting dark. I’ll walk you home.”

The first flakes floated gently down around them as they walked. “Those men look too old and fat to run and help anyone,” Deborah said.

“Oh, and you’re a fine judge of a fighting man, are you? They both spent years earning a living with their fists, and either one could take a pipe away from a man and wrap it around his neck. Do you want me to tell them the lady’s changed her mind, forget it?”

“No, I.... I didn’t know you and Trey weren’t friends any more when I went to see you. How can I be sure I can trust you?”

“I never said we weren’t friends. I said we were reconsidering. I reconsidered some more after you and I talked this morning and went and saw him. We’re fine.”

“You didn’t tell him...?”

“No, I didn’t tell him, and no, I’m not selling you two pigs in pokes. Now what do you want to do?”

She wanted Trey safe. She wanted to erase the bruises and swelling and stitches. “I want them to watch him. I want.... Will it work? Will he notice?”

“He’ll notice. The question is how soon.”

“Did you hire those men because they’ll do a good job or because they need work?”

“Both. If they didn’t need work, you couldn’t hire them now, could you?”

At least he was honest about that. How did such a strange, one-sided friendship start between two such different men?

“Did you and Trey meet in the Rough Riders?”

Lenahan made a sound of disdain and amusement. “Rough Riders. Of all the stupid names. We left the horses behind in Florida and never rode anything but Shank’s mare in Cuba. No, we met after, in the hospital.”

“So you were wounded too.”

“I’d have been better off. No, Cuban fever got me. Still does now and then.”

He left her at Judith’s front gate, disappearing in seconds in snow now coming down thick and fast. How could anyone watch Trey carefully enough on a night like this? On any night unless he stayed on the main streets under the lights?”

Fretting and trying to think of a better solution, she went inside to family, warmth, and safety.

D
EBORAH ENTERED THE
Herald’s
office the next morning so slowly the bell on the door only gave a muted jingle. Trey looked up from the desk.