Cindy Holby (14 page)

Another twinge of guilt hit him. He always said God mocked him and laughed at him. But the truth be told, God had watched out for him the past few days. Maybe meeting Timothy was what he needed to change his luck.

Not so lucky for Timothy…

That’s just the way things were. The West was a dangerous place. If Timothy wasn’t ready to take the risk, he should have stayed back in Ohio.

Or maybe you should have moved on and left him alone…

Cade checked out the window again. Still no sign of Leah, but another man stood on the porch with a big gray dog by his side. He looked toward the house and then walked into the restaurant.

If he was going to pass for Timothy, he’d better find out all he could about the man. Timothy’s Bible was full of papers. Perhaps they would hold some answers. Cade shoved the gun and ammo back on the shelf and shut the cupboard door.

His stomach growled with hunger, but he’d been hungry before. Plenty of times. He wasn’t strong enough to leave yet. He needed to wait until the weather broke and who knew when that would be? Cade went back to his room with Dodger on his heels.

Cade picked up the Bible and shook out the papers that he had stuffed back inside. Dodger lay down on the rug next to the bed. The kitten, attracted by the noise, timidly crept into the room while keeping a wary eye on Dodger. She finally made it to the bed and clawed her way up. Cade sorted the letters by stacking them into a pile, starting with the most recently dated. Ashes wiggled her behind and pounced on the stack of papers, scattering them across the bed. Her tail twitched and she pounced again.

Cade picked her up and she mewed in protest. He put her on his lap, rubbed her ears, and gathered the papers into order once more. Ashes chewed on his thumb as he picked up the oldest letter and began to read.

Dear Pastor Key…

“D
on’t you bring that dog in here.” Dusty yelled through the setup window as the cold wind reminded the dwindling group gathered in the Devil’s Table why they were grateful to be out of the weather.

“Now Dusty, that’s not a bit neighborly.” Ward winked at Leah, grinned and walked right in with a big gray dog on his heels. “She’s new in town and I told her this was the best place to eat. Don’t you dare make a liar out of me.” Wade sat down at his usual corner table with his back to the wall and the dog sat down next to him on the floor. She looked at the table with a hopeful eye.

“Tarnation!” Dusty yelled and went back to his cooking. Leah grinned. Dusty’s bark was always worse than his bite. She dropped the dirty plates she’d just cleared from Zeke’s breakfast into the dishpan and hustled over with a cup and the coffeepot.

“Morning Ward. Where did your friend come from?”
She poured his coffee and looked down into the friendly brown eyes of the dog.

Ward placed his hand on the dog’s head. “She was curled up on the back stoop this morning, trying to stay warm.”

She did seem friendly, as she paid no mind to Ward’s hand. She was used to being touched. “And you decided to invite her for breakfast?”

“Seemed like the neighborly thing to do. Especially since I didn’t have much to feed her. And she came right along when I asked.” Ward’s eyes twinkled with pleasure. Leah knew that for Ward the dog was a welcome change to the everyday monotony of drinking, playing cards and the bad weather.

Dusty clanged some pots together in the back to let the world know he was aggravated. That was nothing new as far as Dusty was concerned. Ward peered around Leah toward the noise and raised his coffee cup in an acknowledgment. Dusty chose to ignore him.

“So, eggs and bacon for two?”

“Sounds great.” Ward sipped his coffee. “And then you can tell me how the preacher’s fairing.”

Leah hoped the cringe in her spine didn’t show as she walked back to turn in Ward’s order. Of all the people in Angel’s End, Ward Phillips had a way of knowing what you were really thinking. She could say the preacher was fine and dandy but Ward would know there was something else going on. That’s probably why he was so good at cards; he knew when you were bluffing. Leah went on into the kitchen just in case Ward could see what she was thinking.

The whole town was busting to meet Pastor Timothy. Everyone who came in today had asked about him, even Zeke Preston, the assayer, who didn’t give a fig about anyone. All she could say was he’s doing fine, still recovering, and she’d let them know when he was ready for company. Margy Ashburn was especially interested, since Pastor Key was unmarried. As she mentioned the fact several times.
Apparently Pris had shared her opinion of the pastor’s good looks with the schoolteacher. Leah felt protective of Pastor Timothy in the face of Margy’s questions and wasn’t sure why. Margy was a kind and gentle soul. She deserved some happiness. Leah just couldn’t see her finding it with Pastor Key. They didn’t mesh in her mind, but stranger things had happened, especially when two people were lonely.

What about me?
She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to the man. Leah quickly pushed the thought down into the dark corners of her mind. It felt like she was being unfaithful…
to a dead man?
She’d never felt that way when she was with Jake. Could it be because Jake had never spoken to her heart like Pastor Key did last night?

Leah didn’t mention to anyone who asked after Pastor Key that he couldn’t recall what happened. There were things about his injury that didn’t quite make sense. Like why his shirt had a bullet hole in the back, but his frock coat and overcoat didn’t. Whoever shot him had to have been pretty close at the time for the bullet to pass all the way through his body, so that ruled out it being an accident. And he must have had both his coats off at the time and then put them back on after he was shot. Why couldn’t he remember any of those details?

Then there was the way he spoke to her. It didn’t quite fit with her idea of how a minister should talk. Leah shook her head at her foolishness. Did she expect the man to go about spouting Bible verses all the time? A verse for every situation? A homily for every statement?

“Gol-durn shyster thinks he can do whatever he wants…” Dusty’s muttering was accented with pops of bacon grease as he attacked the skillet with his spatula.

“I thought you liked dogs, Dusty,” Leah said. “You’re always giving Dodger treats.”

“I never invite him in and set him at the table.”

“She’s not hurting anything or anybody.” Leah looked
through the setup window at the dog, now lying beside Ward, patiently awaiting her meal. “I wonder where she came from.”

“You mark my words; he’ll be bringing her in here every morning from now on, setting her at the table, and spoonfeeding her breakfast.”

“Maybe she belongs to someone. Maybe her owner got lost in the snowstorm.”

Dusty stopped his fussing and looked at the dog. He scratched his grizzled chin as he studied the animal. “It does seem strange, a dog showing up like this, in the middle of a blizzard. She sure don’t belong to anybody I know.”

“The Martins had a cat show up in their barn before the storm. With seven kittens.”

“Seven you say? Tarnation. You think they’d want to give one away? I think we got mice.”

“I’m betting they would.” Leah smiled as she pulled a pan of biscuits from the stove. The tops were golden brown perfection and she dropped a dab of butter on each one and watched them melt over the crusty tops. Dusty was over his huff at Ward and on to something else. “We got one,” she continued. “Banks named her Ashes. She’s real pretty.”

“Shoot, a cat don’t have to be pretty to catch a mouse. Tell ’em I want a boy cat. Last thing I need underfoot is a bunch of kittens.” Dusty slid the eggs onto the plates and then grabbed two biscuits and juggled them as they were still hot. Luckily they landed on the plates.

“I’m sure they have one to spare.” Leah picked up the plates and carried them out to Ward. He wasted no time in feeding the dog who made short work of the entire meal.

“Looks like I’m going to need some more.” Ward seemed proud of her appetite.

“Poor thing must not have eaten since before the storm.”

“More than likely.” Ward turned his dark eyes on Leah. “How’s the food holding out at your house?”

“Just fine.” Leah bent and picked up the tongue-washed plate. There wasn’t a crumb left behind. “I heard Jake went home the night of the blizzard,” she said, neatly changing the subject before Ward could ask any more questions about her patient. “Do you think he made it all right?”

“Why. Are you suddenly concerned?”

“As I would be for anyone who was out traveling in that storm.”

“I’m certain he’s fine.” Ward leaned back in his chair and studied her. “You know Jake. He’s too stubborn to die.”

“How about if I start saving the table scraps?”

“Nah, you need those for Dodger. I can pay for this lady to eat,” Ward said. He scratched between the dog’s ears. “I think I just came up with a name for her.” He grinned at Leah. “Lady.”

“It suits her. I guess you’re planning on keeping her?”

“Might as well. Unless someone shows up to claim her.”

The door opened at that exact moment with a swirl of the wind. Ward and Leah both looked up, startled, as if it were an omen or an angel of providence announcing its presence. Instead, a man and two boys came in, the three of them bent and shuffling with weariness. They walked right by Lady without giving her a second glance and took a table in the corner. The sour smell of sickness and unwashed bodies mingled with the familiar scents of bacon and hot coffee. Lady looked at them curiously, let out a slight whine, and then lay down with a sigh. She moved with elegant grace, slowly closing her eyes as she rested her head on her crossed legs.

“Put their meal on my tab.” Ward spoke quietly. “They look like they’ve had a hard road.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Leah assured him. Ward had a good soul, even though he tried to hide it. He’d be mad as the dickens at her if she told anyone he’d paid for someone else’s meal.

The smell was much worse as she got closer to the table. Leah stopped to grab a coffeepot and cup before she took their order. Dusty stared at the new arrivals through the window and raised a questioning eyebrow in Leah’s direction. She shrugged and went to the table.

The boys looked to be around Banks’s age. One older and one younger. Their clothes were threadbare and large on their frames. They both wore coats that would better fit an adult and boots that were too large for their feet. They kept their heads bent as if they were too weak to hold themselves upright. The top knobs of their spine and the tendons of their necks stood out beneath skin stretched tight above their collars. Dirty, stringy hair stuck out beneath their knitted woolen caps and red scabs peppered the skin that showed. Leah was certain she saw lice crawling among the strands of hair beneath their caps and she repressed a shiver. The poor things needed a hot meal, a thorough bathing and to be tucked into a warm bed. The smaller one sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.

“Welcome to the Devil’s Table,” Leah piped cheerfully. Dusty’s name for the place usually got a laugh or at least a comment from the customers. She sat the cup down before the man and poured it full of steaming hot coffee. “What can I get for you?”

“Whatever you got that’s hot and filling.” The man wrapped his hands around the cup to soak in the warmth and then took a deep gulp. “And be quick about it. We want to be down the mountain before the next storm breaks.” He spoke in short clipped tones, impatient and rude. “We’ll take whatever you got that you can wrap up too.” He pulled a small bag of gold dust from inside his coat and dropped it on the table. “I can pay for it.” He looked up at Leah with darkly shadowed eyes in a hollow and gaunt face.

“Are you from the mining camp?” Miners came and went through Angel’s End. A lot of them had their own claims
and would come in every few weeks to cash in with Zeke and spend the night in town, most of them spending everything they’d worked weeks for in a few short hours at Heaven’s Gate. She’d heard rumors from them of a small community of families who had gone in together on a claim and kept to themselves, even to the point where they’d shoot at anyone who came around.

“None of your damn business,” he barked.

The Devil’s Table was mostly empty. Ward, and a couple of cowboys who had ridden out the storm in town, and weren’t too anxious to get back to work, were the only customers. They all looked up at the words. Ward sat back in his chair with one hand on the table, the other on his gun.

Leah shook her head at Ward. The man was tired and worn was all. More than likely he always spoke that way. If he didn’t want conversation then that was fine. She was more worried about the state of the boys than how friendly the father was.

“What was that all about?” Dusty asked when she went back to the window.

“Man just wants to eat is all.” Leah quickly glanced over her shoulder at the boys. “Poor things, they are done in. He’s taking them out of here before the next storm. I’m not sure if they’ll make it.”

“Well it’s his own business, whatever it is. Just as long as he don’t do no more shoutin’ in here.”