Meadowlark Read online

  “I want to talk to you, Angel.”

  “Talk away,” she said, shuffling the cards.

  “This needs to be discussed in private.”

  Angel was surprised. She’d never seen him angry in all the time they’d been friends, but he most definitely was unhappy about something. “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  “All right,” she said with a shrug. “Take over for me, Collette.”

  Collette nodded and took Angel’s place at the table. Garrick ignored the obvious invitation in her smile as she sat down.

  Angel led the way to her office and shut the door behind them. “What the hell is this all about, Swede?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me my wife was working for you?” he asked.

  “Ah, so that’s it.” She sat down behind her desk and smiled. “I knew you’d be madder than blue blazes when you found out.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Angel leaned back in her chair. “She asked me not to. Besides, I figured you’d make her quit as soon as you found out.”

  “If you knew I wouldn’t like it, why did you encourage her to come here?”

  “Your wife and I have a business arrangement. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Everything my wife does is my business.”

  “Wake up, Swede. This is 1870. In case you missed it, women in this territory now have the right to vote and own their own property. Your wife doesn’t need your permission to work.”

  “This is no place for someone like Becky.”

  “She sews here, Swede, nothing more. If you’re worried about who she’ll run into, don’t. There’s never any customers around that time of day, and she has very little contact with the girls.”

  “But why did she come to you if she needed more money?”

  Angel laughed. “I see your wife didn’t explain our little arrangement to you. There’s no money involved. She does our mending, and I’m teaching her how to cook.”

  “To cook!”

  “That’s right.” She sighed. “And to be honest, Swede, I think she’s lonely.”

  “Lonely?”

  “Why is that such a surprise? You work a twelve-hour shift. She hasn’t got anybody else to talk to.”

  “But why here?”

  “Who else does she know? Her father certainly didn’t have any friends.” She eyed him shrewdly. “There’s more to this than Becky coming here every day, isn’t there?”

  “She wants me to quit the mine.”

  “Do you blame her? You’re all she’s got, Swede, and you damned near died today.”

  “She said I was stupid.”

  Angel arched an eyebrow. “Did she?”

  “No, not really” he admitted. “She said what I did today was stupid. Becky doesn’t seem to understand I didn’t have any other choice.”

  “Maybe she does, and that’s why she feels the way she does. She knows you’ll always walk straight into danger without a second thought. Look, Swede, Becky’s only seventeen, but she’s already lost both parents and the man who fathered her baby.”

  “What makes you think I’m not the father of her baby?

  Angel gave a snort. “This is me you’re talking to, Swede. I can count, and I know damned well you never set eyes on her before you pulled her out of that creek.” She rose and walked to the door. “Better give it some thought, Swede. What’s more important, your job in the mine or that sweet little lady you married?”

  Garrick was pensive as he followed her back into the casino. As usual, Angel was dead right. Becky meant far more to him than being a powder man. If the truth were known, after today, he didn’t care if he never saw the inside of a mine again. He’d probably be having nightmares about it for years to come. But what else could he do? He’d been working with explosives since he was eighteen and had never even thought of doing anything else. Nor were there many jobs that paid as well.

  Leaning against the bar, he surveyed the room broodingly. There must be something he could do. All at once, he straightened as an idea sprang into his head. A slow grin spread across his face. There was something he knew as well as explosives. In fact, he had a real talent for it. With a new lightness in his step, he crossed the room to an empty chair at Collette’s blackjack table.

  Garrick didn’t come home that night, and Becky died a thousand deaths waiting for him. Over and over, she reproached herself. She should never have made such an unreasonable demand on him. What had she ever given him in exchange for all he’d done for her? As usual, she’d let her emotions rule her head, and now she was paying the price. All night long, she pictured him in the arms of another woman. She agonized until dawn when her exhaustion won out, and she finally fell asleep.

  It seemed as though she had only been asleep a few minutes when she awoke to the sound of singing. Becky sat up and rubbed her eyes. It had to be Garrick; there was no mistaking that golden voice, but she’d never heard him sing before. The slightly bawdy tune seemed out of character for him, too.

  “...Sooo don’t turn your back on a—” The song came to an abrupt halt as Garrick stepped inside and found his wife still in bed. He frowned when he saw the swollen bloodshot eyes and rumpled bedclothes. “Are you all right?”

  “Just fine!” she snapped, irritated by his obvious good humor when she had just spent an interminable night feeling rotten. She was instantly remorseful. It was her short-tempered demands that had driven him away in the first place. “Why do you ask?” she asked in a milder tone.

  “I’ve never known you to sleep this late before.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine.”

  Nine!” Becky practically jumped out of bed. With a blanket draped around her shoulders, she hurried behind the canvas curtain to get dressed. When she emerged a few minutes later, Garrick was hunkered down next to the fireplace pouring cornmeal into a pan of boiling water.

  “You seem happy this morning,” she said, vowing she would not ask him where he’d spent the night if it killed her.

  “I am.”

  “Aren’t you going to work today?”

  “I quit.”

  “What!”

  “I just got done talking to Mr. Ryan.”

  “You did?

  “Ja and he wished me luck.”

  “But what’s he going to do for a powder man?”

  “Jack’s almost ready to take over. I can finish teaching him everything he needs to know by the time they get the mine opened up again.”

  “That’s only one. I thought he needed two.”

  Garrick looked up. “Changed your mind about me being a powder man?”

  “N-no, I was just curious.”

  “How about some breakfast before you leave for Angel’s?”

  Becky stared at him in astonishment. “Garrick, what’s going on?”

  “I had a long talk with Angel last night,” he said, stirring the cornmeal. “She convinced me there’s nothing wrong with you going there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “While you’re at Angel’s? Sleep. I didn’t get any last night.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” He peered into the pan. Apparently satisfied with the contents, he set it on the hearth and removed the coffee pot from the fire. “Where’s the molasses?”

  “Are you still mad at me?” Becky asked as she took the molasses off the shelf and handed it to him.

  “No.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me what you are planning?”

  “Because I’m not sure it’s going to work out. If I can manage what I have in mind, I won’t have to work as a powder man any more. If I don’t...” He shrugged. “Tom Ryan said I could always have my job back.”

  “Can’t you tell me?”

  “No, I want it to be a surprise.” He stood up. “Shall we eat?”

  “I thought you hated cornmeal mush.”

  He grinned. “I do, but it’s the o
nly breakfast I know how to make.”

  Becky spent the whole morning pondering Garrick’s strange mood. On the one hand, she’d never seen him so happy, but he also seemed nervous, almost apprehensive about whatever he was planning to do. She sat in her usual chair at The Green Garter trying to puzzle it all out as she sewed.

  Beyond admitting she’d talked to Garrick, Angel had said little. If she knew what he was doing, she wasn’t about to share that information with Becky.

  “And I still say he’s just like any other man.”

  Tucked away in her corner by the pantry, Becky was partially hidden from the two women who entered the kitchen. She looked up when she heard the venomous tone in Molly’s voice. Becky didn’t know Molly’s companion, though she’d seen her a few times, but Angel’s girls never fought with each other. They knew better.

  “That’s because he’s never picked you.” The other woman smiled complacently as she walked over to the stove and poured herself a cup of coffee. “He likes his women with a little more meat on their bones.”

  “You mean fat?”

  The brunette’s eyes narrowed menacingly, then she shrugged and smoothed her manicured hand down over the lush figure beneath her wrapper. “You’re just jealous.”

  “He’s married, Collette.”

  “So what? He spent the night with me.” She took a sip of coffee and gave Molly a sly look. “And he told me he’d be back tonight. No wife can give him what I can.”

  Molly laughed. “That’s probably true, but not many men want the pox. Just joking,” she added hastily as Collette’s lips thinned and her fingers curled into claws. “Most wives don’t enjoy sex, so she’s probably glad.”

  “Well, I hope she appreciates the special attention I give her husband as much as he does. There aren’t many around like Swede. He kept me awake for hours.” Collette smiled maliciously as she heard the shocked gasp behind her.

  A moment later the back door slammed, and Collette laughed. “What a little fool.”

  “You know, you really are a bitch, Collette. She ain’t never been nothin’ but nice to any of us. If Angel knew about this little scene you just set up, she’d skin you alive.”

  “But she’s not going to find out, is she, Molly? Because if she does I’ll tell her all about that nasty little opium habit you have.”

  Molly sighed. “No, I won’t tell her. I still don’t see why you’re doing this.”

  “Because every time Swede has a fight with his wife, he comes here. She’ll probably rip his head off over this.”

  “He still won’t sleep with you.”

  “If she pushes him hard enough, he will.”

  “You’re crazy,” Molly said as she walked out of the room.

  “We’ll see,” Collette said with a sly smile. “We’ll see.”

  Becky ran blindly down the street. A sharp pain in her side made her slow down, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. No wonder Garrick had been so happy this morning. He’d spent the night with the luscious Collette.

  Almost before she realized it, Becky found herself at home. Though Garrick was almost certainly still asleep, she didn’t want to have to face him just yet. Like a small, wounded animal, she crept into the shed out back and sobbed her woes out against Sophie’s neck.

  At last, her tears spent and her emotions drained, Becky fell asleep on the fragrant pile of hay. That’s where Garrick found her when he came to feed the horse several hours later.

  “Becky? What are you doing out here?”

  “Oh.” She sat up and looked around in confusion. “I guess I must have fallen asleep.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I—” Becky gasped in surprise as he effortlessly lifted her to her feet.

  He held her there and gazed down at her with a worried frown on his face. “You look tired.”

  “I...I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

  “Because of the accident at the mine or our fight?”

  “Both.” Her lip quivered. “Oh, Garrick, I’m so sorry. I had no right to place such impossible demands on you.”

  He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “You had every right, Becky. You’re my wife. How can I know how you feel about something if you don’t tell me?”

  “But you were so angry.”

  “I know. My temper is a flaw I inherited from my mother. I can’t promise I’ll agree with everything, or even that I’ll discuss it calmly, but I’ll never hurt you.”

  Becky thought of Collette’s self-satisfied smirk and wondered what he considered hurt. “Can’t you at least tell me what you’re doing?”

  He hugged her tighter and smiled down at the top of her head. “I’m trying to make a business out of the one natural talent I possess.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see. Trust me, Becky.”

  In spite of what she’d heard in Angel’s kitchen, she found that she did trust him; clear through supper and right up to the moment when he told her he was leaving and not to wait up. With a sunny smile and a cheerful wave, he was gone, and Becky’s world caved in around her.

  By ten-thirty, having exhausted all the excuses she could think of for staying up, Becky undressed for bed. It looked as if this was going to be another all-nighter for Garrick. She wanted to cry but was beyond it. There were only so many tears a person could shed within a twenty-four-hour period, she thought as she pulled the pins from her hair, and she’d already used up her allotment.

  Usually the rhythmic strokes of the brush calmed her, but not tonight. At twenty strokes, she thought about how happy Garrick had been when he returned home this morning. By forty-five, she was hearing Collette’s sultry voice assuring Molly he would be back tonight. At seventy-five, Becky found herself wondering what Collette’s perfume smelled like. When she hit ninety-eight, she threw the brush down and went to get dressed.

  The full moon gilded the streets of South Pass City in silver, but Becky hardly noticed as her steps took her unerringly to The Green Garter. Maybe he wasn’t even there. At this time of night, he was almost certainly in a saloon or casino, but it wasn’t necessarily The Green Garter. There were twenty-eight of them in town.

  From long habit of searching for her father, Becky looked through the door without entering. A simple once-over had saved her a lot of time and embarrassment in the past. She saw Garrick almost immediately, sitting at a table with a hand of cards laid face up in front of him. He was smiling lazily up at Collette who stood close by. As Becky watched, the scantily-clad temptress ran her long fingers possessively down the side of his face and bent down to kiss his ear.

  With a gasp of horror, Becky flung herself away from the doorway and pressed her back up against the outside wall of The Green Garter. Had she had the nerve to peek through the door again, she’d have seen her husband shake off Collette’s unwanted attentions as the dealer weighed out his winnings in gold dust.

  Swallowing against the bile that rose in her throat, Becky closed her eyes and concentrated on staying upright.

  “Hello.”

  The deep masculine voice startled Becky. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into the brilliant green gaze of Ox Bruford.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. When Becky didn’t answer, he glanced through the swinging doors of The Green Garter. “Ah,” he said. “I see Swede is at it again tonight.”

  Becky stared up at him in shock. She couldn’t believe even a muleskinner would be so indelicate. “Again?”

  “Yup. Heard he’d given it up since he got married.” He looked down at her. “Swede has got the devil’s own luck, you know. He claims it’s because he pays attention while the rest of us drink.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Blackjack. Swede’s unbeatable.”

  “What?” Cautiously, Becky peered over the swinging doors again. Sure enough, Garrick’s full attention was focused on the three cards under his hand. His fa
ce was expressionless as he looked up and shook his head at the dealer.

  “He came to play cards?”

  “Looks that way, though Angel will probably run him out before too long. They have an agreement. She lets him play up to a certain limit, then sends him on his way.” Ox grinned. “Says it’s good for business for her other customers to see someone win all the time, but she won’t let him break her bank.”

  “What’s the limit?”

  “Last I heard it was five hundred dollars, but he must be close to that. He was over at the White Swan by four o’clock yesterday morning, and he started late.”

  “Five hundred dollars!”

  “Do you want me to go fetch him for you?”

  Becky looked back inside. Collette had moved to another table, but Garrick didn’t seem aware she’d left. “No, I won’t disturb him.”

  “I’ll walk you home then,” he said, offering her his arm. “South Pass City isn’t exactly a safe place at night, or during the day for that matter.”

  “Thank you. I-I don’t know why I came. I just...” Becky felt sick to her stomach. “I’m trying to make a business out of the one natural talent I possess.” Garrick’s words rang through her head. Her carping had turned her sweet, honorable husband into a professional gambler.

  “You know, it’s kind of funny about Swede,” Ox said conversationally as they started down the street. “The money doesn’t seem to mean much to him. He told me once he just likes to manipulate the numbers. This is probably his way of dealing with the accident at the mine yesterday. He started gambling as soon as he got here last night and never let up.

  “Have you known him long, Mr. Bruford?”

  “A couple of years. I met him when he was working on the transcontinental railroad. And my name is Ox, by the way.”

  “Is it really?”

  “Close enough.”

  She smiled. “All right, then you can call me Becky. How is it you’re still in town? Don’t you usually leave the day after you unload your freight?”

  Ox sighed. “I’m waiting for my army escort. I can’t leave until they tell me I can. I’m hoping for tomorrow or the day after. I never know until they show up.”

  “That must be difficult.”

  “It is. They usually don’t give me more than half an hour’s notice.”