Peacemaker (9780698140820) (6 page)

Hector's eyes grew round behind his owlish glasses. “Like a secret code?”

“Something like that.” Caleb chuckled to see the old shopkeeper straighten his lanky shoulders with a newfound importance. “Our secret, all right?”

“Yessir. As a telegraph operator, I swore an oath. All messages are strictly confidential.”

The weekly report was largely inconsequential. Caleb reported his arrival in Hope and the difficulties with his transport, mentioned the recent Indian troubles in the area, and gave an estimated time for his departure. The final few sentences, however, appeared to be just small talk, but were in fact coded phrases directed to the agent in charge of the western territories.

Graeme Tolliver was not only the district chief for all Peacemakers based in the borderlands, but he had been Caleb's best friend since they both attended West Point together. It was not the first time Caleb had used their boyhood code to send messages, and he hoped that Graeme would be able to find out more about Abel Warner in Kansas City than Caleb could out in the middle of nowhere.

He watched idly as Hector tap-tap-tapped out the telegram. Tiny bursts of blue power sparked from the gangly man's fingers to the taut wire with each metallic click, the arcane energies traveling down the miles and miles of wires to a receiver in a distant city.

Caleb felt the incoming presence a split second before the air next to him gave a soft pop, and Ernst materialized on the glass counter. “There you are! I was about to send out a search party.”

Caleb chuckled, stroking the creature's soft ears. “You knew right where I was. Did you learn anything today?”

The jackalope's eyes glanced toward Hector and back; the message was clear.
Later.

The bell over the door jingled merrily, heralding the arrival of the schoolteacher Ellen Sinclair. Hector glanced up and smiled. “I'll be with you, Miss Sinclair, just as soon as I finish this.”

“No hurry, Hector. It's not like I have anywhere else to be.” She sighed, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Dirt smudged her cheek and the apron she'd thrown over her dress, and Caleb debated whether or not to point it out. “You're Agent Marcus, yes? The new Peacemaker?”

“Yes ma'am.” He took his hat off belatedly. “And this is Ernst.” The little creature sat up and preened for her, his furry paws stroking down his long ears. If the familiar were any cuter, Caleb thought he might become ill. “And you're the schoolteacher.”

She grimaced faintly. “Well, I'd like to be. If anyone would let me.”

“And speaking of teaching, the books you ordered came in on the mail stage today.” Finished with the telegram, Hector bustled behind the counter to fetch a large bundle wrapped in brown paper.

“Now, if I just had somewhere to teach and students to educate.” She smiled, gathering the package into her arms. “Thank you, Mr. Pratt.”

Ernst gave a small startled gasp a split second before the ground lurched beneath their feet, setting the doorbell tinkling and sending items tumbling from the store shelves. At the door, Ellen fumbled to keep her balance and her grip on the heavy books. Caleb moved to catch them before they hit the floor, bracing himself over her in the doorway. In mere seconds, it was over.

“Everyone all right?” Hector answered in the affirmative, and Caleb looked down at the woman still nearly pinned to the doorjamb by his body. “Miss?”

Finally, she nodded, visibly pulling herself together, and only then did Caleb move back. Ellen patted her hair back into place, trying to pretend that she wasn't shaken. “That one was stronger, I think.”

Hector agreed. “They've been getting stronger all summer. Damn reds. They won't be happy 'til the ground opens up and swallows us all alive.”

Ernst appeared at her feet, huddling in her skirts with every indication of being terrified, and she scooped the furry creature up into her arms. “Poor little fellow . . . Are you all right?” He immediately set up his chirping purr as Caleb rolled his eyes. Ernst was nothing if not a shameless flirt.

“He's fine now, trust me.” Somehow Ernst always wound up in the lady's arms and Caleb found himself playing hauler. “Look, I'm going back to the saloon. I can carry these for you, if you like.”

She laughed softly. “It's been a long time since someone offered to carry my books for me. But I'll take you up on it. Thank you.”

Giving their farewells to Hector, they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. Caleb donned his hat again to shield his eyes from the brightness and grabbed the reins on his transport. “How long have those earthquakes been happening?”

“Oh, they started around the first of the year, I guess. Faint at first, so we weren't really sure of what we were feeling. Lately, they've been stronger, and more frequent.”

“And do you think the Cheyenne are causing them?” He shortened his stride to stay at her side, the arcane construct pacing on his other side with a faint wheeze-sigh of powered gears.

She frowned in thought, stroking Ernst's fur. “I don't know. Most likely they're just a natural phenomenon. But if anyone would have reason to cause something like that, the Indians would. They haven't been treated well.”

“Nor have you, from what I understand.” He almost instantly regretted saying it, but she only chuckled.

“No one has been unkind to me here. They're just . . . set in their ways. And Mr. Warner's school has served them well for years. I can't really fault them for not wanting to change.”

“So why stay?” Caleb stepped up to open the saloon door for her.

“Because I love this place.” She smiled. “I came west because I wanted to truly make a difference in children's lives. I packed my bags, hopped on the stage at Kansas City, and when I saw the name Hope, it seemed prophetic.” She deposited Ernst on the bar, and he gave a disappointed little sigh. “Thank you, by the way, for sending Jimmy Welton in my direction. I've been trying to reel him in for months, and I don't think he'd have come to me if you hadn't said something.”

“The boy's got potential. He needs to be taught before he scours himself accidentally.” Caleb relieved himself of his burden and waved to Teddy as the bartender appeared from the kitchen.

“I agree. And I think he alone proves the water theory to be wrong.”

“Water theory?”

Teddy set two glasses of lemonade on the bar, beads of sweat already trickling down the sides. “They say it's the nullstone in the mountains. That it gets inta the water and makes the children barren.”

Caleb frowned. “Barren?” The Anderson children had most definitely not been barren, and they'd been living atop the nullstone deposit he'd sensed for presumably all of their young lives.

Ellen nodded, taking a seat on the barstool and arranging her skirt neatly around her legs. “Even the ones who weren't born barren have had their talents wane and die. It's sad, really.”

“Ernst?” Caleb looked curiously at his familiar.

The jackalope shrugged. “The Anderson children are just fine, for their ages. And the other little ones that petted me yesterday were perhaps a bit weak, but they are also very young. Their power hasn't had time to develop yet.”

“That little group hasn't started school out at Warner's place yet, either.” Ellen frowned. “If it's in the water, I maintain it's out there. Rebecca Carter was a little firebrand until she started going to that school, and now there isn't a spark to her.”

“Hush, Ellen,” Teddy warned quietly. “You'll get yerself in trouble, lass.”

“Oh, hush yourself, Theodore MacGregor. You may all cower and shy when Abel Warner deigns to glance your way, but I will not! Just because he throws money around like water and half the world kisses his boots as he walks by doesn't mean that he's lord of the manor.” Color rose in her pale cheeks, and she all but stomped her foot for emphasis. Even when the tavern door swung open to admit one of Warner's men, she would not be quieted. “Warner can blame the barren ones on the Indians if he likes, and the earthquakes, and the drought, and whatever else he can come up with. But the fact remains that the little ones are fine before they start school out there and are nearly scoured within the first month.”

The hired gun—Higgins, Caleb thought—raised a brow and sauntered over to the bar where they were gathered. “Now, see, I think this is why women oughta be seen and not heard.”

“And I'm pretty sure you're not paid to think.” Ellen slid off her bar stool, glaring at Warner's man with her hands on her hips.

The scruffy thug snorted. “I get paid for a lot of things. Like making sure big mouths get shut.” He stepped close to the schoolteacher, looming over her as she held her ground. Unfortunately for him, that put his back to Caleb.

The Peacemaker tapped Higgins on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but that sounded suspiciously like a threat.” When the thug turned to look at him, Caleb smiled cheerfully. “I know I misunderstood. Because only a complete imbecile would threaten someone in front of an officer of the law.”

Higgins's eyes narrowed as he turned to face this new opponent. “You're just a travelin' law dog. You best be movin' on.”

Ernst mumbled to himself as he hopped down behind the bar. “Shouldn't have said that . . .”

Teddy eyed the two men with a frown, bringing an old shotgun out from under the bar. “I dinnae want my place torn up, lads. If ye'd be so kind as to take it outside?”

“That won't be necessary, Teddy.” Caleb rested his hand on Higgins's shoulder. “Mr. Higgins is a smart man. I trust that he understands his small place in this very large world.”

Higgins shrugged off his touch, clenching his fists at his sides. “I'll show you small place . . .”

Caleb felt the power build, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in response. Higgins was focusing into his fists, tiny sparks of power gathering around his knuckles. His weight shifted to his back foot, his shoulders tensed to swing. The blast would be strong enough to stop a heart, burn flesh.

And Caleb simply expanded his awareness, opening up to not only his own power but the other man's as well.
“Trechter.”
Funnel.
What Higgins was drawing into himself was suddenly funneled through Caleb instead. The sensation of it coursing through his veins was enough to make him catch his breath, but he held his focus and directed it downward. The power was siphoned away, trickling down through Caleb's connection to Ernst behind the bar, through the wooden flooring, and into the earth beneath. Higgins was left gaping in amazement, his face going paler by the moment as he tried to grasp his power only to find it repeatedly slipping through his fingers.

“You . . . you scoured me!” The thug actually staggered, and Caleb caught him by his elbow to steady him.

“No, I simply redirected your energies elsewhere. It's not permanent.” Fear was spiking the man's abilities in erratic directions, and Caleb gritted his teeth as he had to adjust his own capacity for the fluctuations. “Once you have agreed to calm yourself, I'll restore your abilities to you.”

It was the most precious of a Peacemaker's abilities, and the hardest one to learn. Very few actually had the strength to take on not only their own power but someone else's, much less direct it in any controlled fashion. In a very odd way, his old war injury helped with that. It had left a gaping hole in his capabilities, and where his own power was missing, it was more than happy to take on someone else's. Caleb breathed deeply, attempting to regulate both streams of energy running through him. Beside him, Ellen was creating similar spikes, her fear and anger hissing and fizzing like a Chinese sparkler. He couldn't handle all three threads, even with Ernst bleeding off as much excess as he could.

“Teddy, if you could take Miss Ellen to her room, please?”

It was obvious that both of them could feel the immense amount of power swirling around inside the Peacemaker, and when the bartender hurriedly escorted Ellen to the stairs, she did him the courtesy of not protesting.

Once they were alone, Caleb smiled at Higgins. “Now, in the future, I expect you to show respect to any ladies that you speak to, as well as law enforcement officers that you may encounter. Because it is fully within my authority and ability to scour you if I deem you a danger to society.”

“You can't!” he gasped.

“I can. And I will if I must. You might want to relay that to your companions.”

The door swung inward again, revealing the slender Schmidt standing in the orange rays of the setting sun. Beneath the low brim of his hat, his eyes fixed on the two men. Caleb could almost see the gears and bearings whirring in his mind. He was weighing the situation, determining risk and likelihood of success, methodically calculating his next action before he took it.

“Mr. Schmidt! If you could help Mr. Higgins back to the ranch, please? I think he's had a bit of a scare.” Caleb clapped Higgins on the shoulder with an easy smile, nudging the ashen man toward the door.

Whatever conclusion Schmidt came to, he said nothing, merely standing aside as Higgins stumbled past him out the door. Caleb's control over his power lasted only until the man walked off the stoop, when distance thinned it to the breaking point and Caleb released it. It rebounded with an audible snap and the smell of ozone.

For a split second, he felt hollow, with a great aching space where Higgins's power had once been. It was so tempting, at times like that, to keep it. To draw as much as he could, then add more, drinking until he was sated. He drew his focus inward, wrapping his own energy around him like a prickly cocoon.

Still standing in the doorway, Schmidt slowly tilted his head to one side, as if he were seeing the Peacemaker for the first time. There was no change to his smooth face, no quiver of lips or twitch of brows, but Caleb knew somehow that he'd finally come to the sharpshooter's notice. That was definitely not a place Caleb wanted to be. After a long moment, the pale-eyed man simply turned and departed.