The Union (24 page)

Keely didn't laugh. "Why? Why now? Why are you so certain?" Her voice broke with emotion and grief that Dietz could barely face.
 

He hadn't meant to, but he was hurting her, and only more lay ahead. "Did I say I was certain? I'm just preparing."

"You don't have to and you're not!" She ran her fingers through his hair. "What makes you think you're going to leave me?"

Damn, her choice of words was fatal. Did she have to hit so close to the truth? "Ever have a premonition?"

"Never!" She was too adamant.

"I have. Sometimes a man knows things and can't say how." The truth, but gilded. He felt ashamed of himself. She started to sob. He pushed off the floor and sat beside her on the bed, taking her in his arms. "Hide the money someplace safe."

Two days slid by. Keely felt herself being hurtled toward some unalterable destiny. On one occasion she said as much to McCullough. He laughed and said she'd been influenced by her Irish superstitions; would she be looking for little people next?

"You're Irish, too, you and your premonitions!" she had shouted back.
 

He masked his expression again. "Half," he said. "Fortunately my Scottish side has better sense."

She'd been angry, but she realized now fear had driven it. They had made up and made love in the wild, reckless manner they'd become accustomed to.

Standing in the kitchen, remembering, she felt caged. Like the small wild bunny she'd caught as a girl, she wanted to throw herself against the walls, to rail at a fate that robbed her of what should have been the most joy of her life. She had not left the boardinghouse in over a day, not even to set foot on the front porch. Filled with drunk, angry men, the streets reeked of danger and alcohol. Lust, for anything, women or violence, shone in the eyes of the miners. Keely didn't dare leave her sanctuary, her prison.

She had been staring sightlessly out her window, but suddenly a man seated on a crate outside the post office caught her attention. She'd noticed that man following Mr. Allison all morning. Blast these miners. They proved Mr. Allison innocent, couldn't they leave him alone?

Mr. Allison emerged from the post office, whistling and heading back toward his store. Keely had had enough. She meant to warn him. She stepped outside, happy to be outdoors, happy that indignation had set her free. "Mr. Allison!"

He stopped, turned, and smiled at her. "Don't mind my impertinence, Mrs. McCullough, but it isn't safe for a lady to be out on the streets." He laughed in a gentle, kindly manner. "For anyone."

"I don't disagree, but I need coffee. I hope you have some stocked. With all the drinking going on, there's been a lot of coffee drinking, trying to overcome the effects of excess."

Mr. Allison held the door open for her. "Let's ask Mrs. Shipley what she's got."

Kate Shipley, the only other person in the store, stood behind the counter, looking out the window behind them with a concerned expression. Her little five-year-old boy played near her, running and darting between the barrels of dry goods. Keely grabbed Mr. Allison's arm and leaned in to speak to him.

"Mr. Allison. I know all about the accusations made against you earlier in the week. I also know you were exonerated. I must tell you how relieved I am. I couldn't believe you would be so low as to be a spy, a hideous private detective!" She paused, feeling Mrs. Shipley's gaze on them. "That's why I feel I must warn you. There's a man sitting on a box in front of the post office. He's been following you for the last day."

Mr. Allison looked in the opposite direction of what Keely expected, toward Mrs. Shipley, and frowned. Mrs. Shipley's gaze fixed on the post office.
 

"He has," Kate Shipley said. "I've been waiting for you to return so I could warn you myself."

"Either of you ladies recognize him?"

Keely shook her head. So did Kate. Mr. Allison turned, and made like he wanted to examine something on display in the store window, but his gaze focused on the man outside. Keely watched him closely, but no recognition flickered. A puzzle—why would someone be following a nice man like Mr. Allison? He smiled warmly and turned back to the ladies. "Must be a case of mistaken identity." He led Keely from the window. "Do you still want that coffee, or was that just an excuse?"

"Both. Please put the coffee on the boardinghouse account for me, Mrs. Shipley." While Mrs. Shipley wrapped up the purchase, Keely took the opportunity to speak with Mr. Allison. "Do you believe in premonitions, Mr. Allison?"

"No, can't say as I do. Why do you ask?"

No one seemed to, no one but McCullough. "McCullough does. He has this notion that something is going to happen to him, something to take him from me."

Mr. Allison gave her an oddly sympathetic look. "Does he now? Well, I wouldn't worry. So far as I know, he isn't a prophet."

"But he's been making provisions for me in case..." She couldn't finish.

"Likely he's just being cautious. Taking a wife will do that to a man. Just be glad he loves you enough to care about your future." Mr. Allison's hard expression sat at odds with his sentimental words. As so often lately, Keely felt like she witnessed a play where everyone had roles but her.

"Times are dangerous. You heed your husband's warnings, Mrs. McCullough."

"I will, Mr. Allison. And you watch out for yourself, too."

Panic pulsed through Dietz's veins, ripe and biting. Sweat dripped from his forehead, not from fear, from fighting. He wiped the salty sweat away with the back of his hand, then tenderly felt his jaw, his mouth. The rusty taste of blood met his tongue. He took a blow to the mouth. No teeth broken, just a fat, split lip. Didn't the scab understand it was a mock fight? Evidently not.

The scab lay just downhill from him, doubled over with pain, concealed in the underbrush out back of town, uphill as close to the Gem as Dietz could manage. Dietz saw him clearly. With luck, the union crowd cheering at his back, the bunch of jackals, couldn't see a thing.

Dietz cursed under his breath, then whispered heavily. "I'm going to create a distraction. Then you run like hell for the mine."

Dietz staggered back to the road and the waiting union boys, shaking his head, clutching his ribs as he emerged from the heavily forested hill. One good deed done. One scab who might live, provided the boy made it back to the Gem.
 

Shit
. Half a dozen scabs beaten nearly to death in an afternoon. And Dietz had to walk in on this fight on his way back to town. The panic coursing through him had little to do with the scab. Patterson had been fingered as a private detective. Dietz needed to get through the brawling and get back to warn him.

"McCullough!"
 

Dietz didn't recognize the voice.

"I lost the coward in the brush."

A volley of curses erupted as the union men crowded around him. "Shall we go after him?"

"You boys do what you want. I'm going home to nurse my wounds before the big meeting." Dietz looked around at the faces rimming the circle around him.

"Yeah, you bet." "Good idea." And similar sentiments echoed around him. The boy would be safe, for the moment.

Dietz stopped by Dutch's on his way home and begged a basin of water and a towel off Dutch. Dietz didn't need Keely fussing over him. Dutch seemed to understand. Back at the boardinghouse, looking reasonably normal, Dietz begged off from Keely's attentions and questions, claiming he needed a rest.

The General Assembly of the union would meet later in the evening, like always on their regular night. They were going to kill Patterson there. On Dietz's way past Keely to the bedroom, she grabbed his arm and told Dietz about the man following Patterson.

"Not to worry, lass. I'm sure it's nothing."

Keely saw his mouth then. He knew by her expression. Cold water hadn't been able to totally quash the swelling and bruising of his lip.

"McCullough?"

"I was in a fight, lass. Jumped by a scab but not seriously hurt. You should have seen him."

She reached out and gently stroked his face. "I'm sorry."
 

He winced. "They're fighting all over town. It's been a banner day for fat lips and black eyes. Stay in the house where you're reasonably safe, lass. Promise me."

As soon as Keely stopped fussing over him and left him to rest, Dietz sneaked out the back window of the boardinghouse, circled behind in the woods, met up with the road and crawled through the empty culvert under the street. He crept back of the buildings and crawled through the board Patterson kept intentionally loose in the high, tight privacy fence he had constructed around the back of his store. Dietz felt like a kid playing an obnoxious game of hide-and-seek. Moments later he let himself into Patterson's store and found Patterson in his rooms.

When Dietz pushed the door open, he met Patterson drawing a bead on him in the sight of his Colt's 45. "Didn't your mama teach you to knock?"

"Knocking is a little too obvious. My mama didn't teach me a damned thing. She threw me out at age five."

Patterson dropped the gun to his side. "You're looking pretty today."

"I've been fighting scabs and saving scabs. What mixed lives we lead." Time ticked too short for niceties. "Let's get down to business. I sneaked out of the house and need to get back before Keely misses me. I know you know that you're being followed. Keely told me," Dietz said. "Your tail has been consorting with Dallas." Patterson didn't appear surprised. "His name is Black Jack—"

"He's from Nevada," Patterson interrupted. "Where he blew up the Prinz and Pelling Mine when I was on assignment there. We heard he skipped to Africa. I guess he's back. I've been wondering all afternoon if he recognized me or if I just looked familiar. I guess now I know."

"He's union. A regular member," Dietz said.

"Yeh."

"You have to get out of town, Patterson. He recognized you and told the union brass. They'll kill you for certain this time."

"I'm not leaving, Dietz. Not until the operation's over and I've done what I'm paid to do." Patterson smiled. "Don't expect there's much chance of me escaping anyway. Billy Flynn was here earlier. I always liked Billy. I used to room with his brother-in-law John Day. Well, I'm rambling. I've known what you're telling me all afternoon.

"Billy came over drunk as they come and crying like a baby, telling me how he hated to go back on union principles and warn a traitor, but he couldn't believe I was one. Billy confirmed what you're saying. I asked Billy why they suspected me again, especially considering I just proved my innocence yesterday. He claims he was sworn to secrecy, but that someone recognized me as a private detective. It had to be Black Jack."

"You're not going to be foolish enough to come to the meeting, are you?"

"No, I won't be going. You'll have to be our eyes and ears, Dietz."

Dietz, still standing, shifted from foot to foot. "You have an escape plan?"

Patterson shook his head in the negative. "I'll have to get to the mine."

"Shit, Patterson. Cross Canyon Creek, climb to the wide-open rail bed, and then hoof it up the hill to the mine? The trip's filled with dangers. And how do you plan to get as far as the creek? I had a deuce of a time sneaking over here myself. The back of your fence is clear, but they've got scouts. You know they'll be surrounding your place soon. You need to get out now."

"No, boy. I need to play a calm hand."

"And I need to get home before Keely misses me." Dietz turned toward the door. "You go anywhere, let Mrs. Shipley know. I'll follow when I can. Do what I can." Patterson nodded. Dietz turned and left.

Minutes after Keely left McCullough's room, she returned with a cold compress for his lip. The bed was empty. She hadn't heard the back door open and close. Perplexed, she glanced up in time to see McCullough sneaking off back into the woods. Where was he going? Why had he lied to her, wanted to get rid of her? Didn't he trust her? Fears, worries, anger all welled up at once. Could he have union business so important?

She went back into the kitchen to check on the pies she was baking in the oppressive heat and spent fifteen minutes stewing. She would show him. She meant to return to the room and wait for him. She would catch him sure and certain. But when she returned and opened the bedroom door, she found him back in bed, sleeping, his breathing soft and steady, his expression relaxed. She sat on the bed next to him and brushed the hair from his face.

What's going on, McCullough?

Chapter 15

Dietz's watch read eight forty-five. The union meeting had started at eight. At eight thirty, half an hour after Patterson should have shown up, Waters dispatched a committee of three men to Patterson's store to see what kept him. Of course, Dietz knew what kept him, a sense of self-preservation. Dietz guessed every man in the hall knew as much.

Anticipation laced the crowd, which buzzed and murmured as they awaited the committee's return. Frankly, Dietz had been glad he had not been appointed to face Patterson. Suddenly the men went silent. The committee walked in empty-handed and conferred with Waters. When Waters said nothing, the crowd started humming again, men whispering to their neighbors, speculation buzzing like flies.