The Law and Miss Penny (11 page)

Mariah hung back, her arms crossed over her breasts. Zack didn't have to say another word for her to understand what he'd been hinting at. Cain would be spending his "loan" in the saloons and on the "erring sisters" so plentiful west of town and the railroad tracks near the area known as "poverty flats." She bristled at the thought of Cain cavorting with one of those women.

Oda contemplated her daughter a moment longer than usual, then waved a hand toward her husband, shooing him away in the same manner Mariah had banished Daisy. "Go on down and get us a table. I want a word with Mariah—alone."

Zack's brown eyes narrowed for an instant, but then he shrugged and said, "All right, but don't be too long."

"Don't worry, Zachariah. I've got a bigger appetite than you do." Then, making sure her cigar was snug in the usual corner of her mouth, Oda flatted her palms against his chest and practically shoved him out the door.

Oda stood rock-still for a long moment after her husband had gone, her back to her daughter, and when she finally turned to face her, there was an unusual softness to her blue eyes, and even a hint of sadness. "I ain't much good at this woman-to-woman kind of talking."

Mariah almost laughed out loud at the glaring understatement. She didn't, but nodded instead. "I've... noticed."

"What I can do, is see." Oda pinned her gaze on Mariah, to make her point as best she could. "I don't like what I see when you're with Cain. It don't look any better to me when you're just thinking about him, either."

Mariah's mouth dropped open. She hadn't been aware that Oda had even noticed she'd become a grown woman, much less went to the trouble to figure out what she was thinking. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a snappy retort, or even form the words to a denial. What she did do, much to her horror, was blush like a lace-covered, eyelash-batting society girl.

Oda squinted a knowing blue eye, the one directly above the butt of her fat stogie, and slowly shook her graying head. "Ain't nothing but bad gonna come from it, girl. I know what I'm talking about. Nothing but bad."

"Lord almighty, Mother," Mariah finally said, finding her voice, as well as a much higher pitch than normal. "I don't know what you could be talking about."

"You know. Even if you and I ain't had much opportunity to talk about such things, you know. And so does your 'cousin.'" She turned and slowly plodded to the door. "Mark my words," she said over her shoulder. "I know that marshal's gonna wind up hurting you if you keep after him this way. Hurting you something awful. You coming to supper?"

"I, ah—in a little bit." The color began to ebb from Mariah's cheeks as her embarrassment slowly gave way to resentment. While she and her mother were fairly close, they'd never been able to discuss intimate matters, and hadn't so much as ever flirted with a conversation concerning the relations between husband and wife. Even when Mariah had become a woman, Oda's information had been scant, just enough to keep her from thinking that she was dying, but not enough to offer the tiniest clue about the significant part menses would play in her life as a full- grown woman. What made Oda decide to offer such dire warnings about Cain, and at this late date of all times? Mariah might have welcomed this motherly advice when she was a girl of thirteen. But now? The subject was even more difficult to address than before. Much too difficult.

Working to suppress her jumbled emotions, Mariah bit the words off as she said, "You go on ahead. I need to do some thinking about all this. I'll be along later."

With a short nod, Oda opened the door and stepped out from the room. Before she closed it, she turned back to Mariah and repeated the phrase, "Mark my words." Then she was gone.

Resentment giving way to astonishment, Mariah numbly made her way to the window and drew back the sheer draperies. From her second-floor view, she looked out on the vacant lot across the street from the hotel at the corner of Main Avenue and Seventh Street. Frequently that lot was filled with Indian ponies, tepees, and Utes from the nearby reservation as they came to town to trade with the area merchants. Tomorrow, the Doc Zachariah Kickapoo Medicine Show would set up shop there, with Mariah as the "star" attraction.

She didn't feel like much of a star tonight, nor did the idea of disguising herself as Princess Tanacoa afford her any sense of security. Whether she welcomed her mother's observations and advice or not, Oda had seen through the Indian princess, beneath the daughter she'd borne, and caught a glimpse of something Mariah had been suspecting herself: that she was falling in love with Cain Law. Now, the time had come for her to face the world she'd created for both herself and the lawman the day she invented a new life for U.S. Marshal Morgan Slater.

She probably should have encouraged her mother to talk more, but there was really no use in that. The only thing Mariah had ever learned when she questioned Oda was that her mother could be an extremely private woman, one whose life before she married Zack had apparently been difficult. She had also learned to recognize when her mother was approachable, and even more important, when she was not. So what had Oda really been trying to do today? Spoil the obvious good time Mariah was having with her new "cousin"? Wouldn't she want her only child to be happy, if only for a short time?

Perhaps Oda had been thinking ahead to the day when Cain's memory returned. There would be plenty to worry about then, for them all. But now? As far as Mariah was concerned, Cain was her man. She had, after all, gone out of her way to create him and make him into the kind of person he was today. She thought of the hours she'd worked with him, training him to meet her needs and the needs of her family. Of course he was hers, custom-made. He didn't need anyone else—or did he?

As Mariah thought of her man in the arms of a saloon girl and the reasons he might find comfort there, the blood rushed to her temples, making her feel a little dizzy. In the scheme of things, she hadn't thought to consider his hands on her, turned Mariah's stomach and dredged up something primitive and savage inside of her. Savage,
his
needs, but of course he had them. All men had needs. But just the thought of another woman's hands on Cain, or worse,
yes,
she realized, feeling more like Princess Tanacoa than she'd have believed possible. She would have to find a way to stop whatever he was up to now, and figure out how to help him assuage his needs later.

Her eyes glowing to their deep purple depths, Mariah glanced down at her clothing. She'd changed into a perfectly respectable two-piece dress of rust sateen trimmed with black lace and ribbon banding. Although her bonnet was oversized and outdated, it made her appearance more than suitable for public view—whether she chose to go downstairs to the hotel restaurant or out into the streets of Durango.

Her plan taking shape, Mariah grabbed a small bag and stuffed a couple of bills inside it. Then she dashed out of her room.

* * *

Some thirty miles due west of the Strater Hotel, Billy Doolittle sat near the edge of a cliff overlooking the lush Mancos Valley. Just east of this rich expanse of bubbling creeks and verdant meadows lay the snow-capped La Plata Mountains. Beyond them, the town of Durango sat waiting like a ripe peach, one Billy could hardly wait to pluck.

He turned to Tubbs, who'd joined him and Artemis on watch, and said, "Taking the dummy with you on this job is just about the stupidest idea you've ever come up with." To prove his point, he glanced down the hillside a few feet to where Artemis sat out of earshot. The youngest Doolittle was hunkered down near a family of squirrels, giggling and talking to them as he offered bits of a stale biscuit to those brave enough to come near. "You want that numskull covering you if there's a shoot-out?"

Tubbs shrugged. "The kid likes animals. No harm there."

"There'll be a heap more than harm coming at you—hell, at all of us if'n I let you take that dunderhead into Durango."

"I don't happen to agree." Tubbs glanced down the hill and studied Artemis for a moment. "What if we just poke around a little to see if Slater's even showed up yet? Maybe he's already been and gone. If I can't take him out without drawing the law down on myself, then me and the kid'll head right back here so you can work up another plan."

Billy grumbled to himself a moment and then spat into a juniper bush. It really wasn't a bad plan at all, but he just hated the idea of Artemis riding off with Tubbs. "I still can't say it sounds like such a good idea. There's something about it I don't like."

"You don't have to like it. Just allow me to do it, and you know why? When the time comes to confront Slater, I want a fresh face with me, not someone who'll give him cause to draw those pistols."

Still grumbling, Billy muttered, "Artie's face may not give you away, but you watch—he'll think of something to do that'll louse everything up."

Tubbs chuckled softly. "It'll be all right. The kid listens to me." He might have added, "Even if he doesn't listen to you." But instead, he said, "Call him up here and tell him he's going with me. If we head out now, we can ride into Durango first thing in the morning."

"You might be right, at that," Billy admitted grudgingly. "But one other thing. How can you be so sure you'll recognize Slater? I thought you only seen him the one time."

"That's right. It was when I was playing poker at The Bucket in Denver. I watched him round up the Thorp Gang that night. I'll know him when I see him. There's something about those green eyes a man don't quickly forget."

Billy nodded, and even though it was against his better judgment, he whistled and waved his brother toward them. As the kid scrambled up the hill, several of the squirrels scampered along behind him.

"Yeah, Billy?" Artemis said as he reached the crest, his usual bright grin in place.

"Got a job for you." Motioning for silence before his brother could begin an endless round of questions, Billy went on to explain. "I've decided to send you and Tubbs here into Durango on a—"

"Durango?
By myself, just me and Tubbs?"

"Shut your stupid mouth and let me finish, or you won't be going nowheres but asshole over teakettle down the side of this here mountain."

Artemis's head injury was at times a blessing. In his exuberance, all he really heard was that he was being sent on a job, a real job, and to Durango, of all places. His grin never faded as his brother sputtered and fumed. He just nodded rapidly, and said, "I'm all ears, Billy. Go on."

"As I was trying to say, you and Tubbs are gonna ride into Durango and have a look-see around. We want to know what Marshal Slater has been up to.

You and Tubbs might even have to take him out. Think you can handle a big job like that?"

Something inside Artemis must have busted loose. He was sure of it. His head felt twice as big as normal, and the pressure of keeping a wild whoop of joy inside himself had his eyes bulging. But he had to keep that elation inside at all costs. If he didn't know another thing, he knew that much. Why, if Billy were to witness another of his frivolous fits of the giggles, he'd kick his butt down the mountain for sure, and take the job away to boot. To make certain that didn't happen, Artemis pinched his own upper arm, and twisted the tender flesh until the urge to celebrate subsided. "I can handle the job just fine, Billy. When are we supposed to leave?"

From behind him, Tubbs supplied the answer. "Now, if your brother's done talking to you."

Artemis pinched himself again as he said, "Then I guess I'd best get to packing my saddlebags."

"Not so fast." Billy stepped up beside him. "Since I ain't riding along with you, I only got this one chance to make sure you understand what I expect, so listen up."

"I'm a-listening."
Boy,
was he listening. His ears had to be sticking up as big as a jackrabbit's, maybe even a mule's.

"This here's a dangerous job, one that affects the lot of us. You got to keep that thick head of yours on business and that big mouth of yours shut, understand?"

A secret mission? Artemis couldn't dim his luminous grin a second longer. "I understand, Billy, I do."

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, boy. You know what'll happen if you don't keep a serious face about you and your mind on business, don't you?"

Artemis saw the vicious look in his brother's eyes, the one he always dreaded because something awful usually went along with it. All the elation and excitement in his body turned to stone. "I know what you mean, Billy. I swear, this time, I do."

Tubbs nudged Artemis in the back with his elbow, but kept his cold gaze on Billy as he said, "I'll make sure he understands from here on out. See you in a few days. Let's go, kid."

After they'd walked several yards beyond the lookout point, Tubbs turned to Artemis and spoke low so only he could hear. "Say—you know that big sorrel I found a few weeks back?"

Artemis brightened a little at the mention of the horse. "Yeah."

"He seems to have taken a shine to you. How'd you like to ride him into Durango?"

"Me?" He whipped his head around, his eyes almost back to their full radiance. "You mean ride him like he was my own?"

"Just like you bought and paid for him."

Artemis grinned and scratched his head right near the cowlick. "Could I name him Big Red? That's what I been calling him when no one's around."

"Big Red sounds just fine, kid. Just fine."