Deborah Camp (21 page)

Smiling when she recalled Mrs. McDonald’s testimony to Reno’s goodness, she decided she really should cut him some slack. Oh, she would have liked
to have witnessed his altercation with Yancy Stummer! But a niggling fear sent a chill through her heart when she thought of Buck Wilhite. That man was dangerous, and she worried about Reno crossing swords with that heartless killer.

She didn’t want to lose him. She was falling in love with him. Shaking her head at that and still finding it stunning and sweet and totally unexpected, she wondered if he had any inkling that her feelings toward him had deepened, become more complex and almost full to bursting.

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement outside and her heart stopped, then started beating again when she recognized the petite figure of Little Nugget.

She was probably coming around to see Mrs. McDonald and make sure she had escaped harm, Adele thought, rising to unlock the restaurant door. Nearly everybody in town had been by to look at the damage for themselves and speculate on who could have done it. Of course, anyone who had half a brain knew who was behind the destruction.

“I bet you’re looking for Mrs. McDonald,” Adele said. “She has already retired upstairs to her room. Shall I get her for you?”

“No.” Little Nugget stepped inside and examined the damage. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, everyone is fine. Reno had a close call, but he’s in no danger now.” Adele motioned to a chair. “Would you care to sit down?”

“Thanks.” With a swish of her skirts, Little Nugget settled in the chair. A stylish midnight-blue hat sat atop her pale blond hair and matched the fine, perfectly
fitted dress of linen and lace. She smoothed her black gloves more tightly over her small hands. “Have you heard about the fight in town today?”

“As a matter of fact, Mrs. McDonald informed me of that a few minutes ago. I suppose Reno didn’t think I’d be interested.” Adele sat opposite the young woman and smiled, letting her in on the joke. “Did you witness the spectacle?” A thought struck her. “Your boss didn’t send you here with a message for me or Reno, did he?”

Little Nugget shook her head and wrinkled her nose, as if she found the idea ludicrous. “Do I look like a carrier pigeon to you? I’m sure Taylor isn’t leaping for joy, but if he was going to send a message, I figure he’d send it with your friend Sally Baldridge.”

“Hmmm, well, Sally and I are not getting along right now.”

“Besides, Taylor sent you a message last night.” Little Nugget raised her head to eye the planks covering most of the windows.

The light from the oil lamp on the table flowed across Little Nugget’s piquant features and illuminated the dark circle under her right eye and her split and puffy lower lip. Adele sucked in a breath and shot out one hand, gripping Little Nugget’s arm.

“What happened to you? Did Terrapin do that?” she asked with a wince.

“A saloon customer last night who got too rambunctious. I didn’t like his manner and told him so. He didn’t like my mouth, so he slugged me. Taylor didn’t like me telling off his customer and he took a swing at me, too.”

“Why don’t you leave?”

“Why don’t you cut loose your pal and let her and Taylor get on with their wedding?”

“She signed a work contract. If I let her break it, what will keep my other waitresses from doing the same thing?”

Little Nugget shrugged. “I don’t reckon the others will want to leave. This is a good place. Got a roof over your head, three meals a day, fair pay, and the work ain’t too tirin’.”

“Because we hire respectable young ladies here, mostly from the East, they are popular with local men. We had trouble keeping our workers, so now we have them sign a contract, promising to remain one year.”

“Respectable ladies,” Little Nugget murmured. “Doris ain’t respectable, is she?”

“Well, I made an exception there. She’s the cook and stays in the kitchen.”

“Hidden.” Little Nugget smiled at Adele’s discomfort. “That’s okay. She’d rather be hidden in that kitchen than be on display at the saloon.”

“What about you? Wouldn’t you rather work here?”

“Maybe. But I couldn’t.” Little Nugget smoothed her gloves again, keeping her head bowed.

“Why not? Mrs. McDonald fits in. So would you. I bet you’d make a good waitress. I’ll need another one when Sally leaves.” Adele felt good making the offer. “Won’t you think about it?”

“Nothing to think about. I couldn’t do the work.”

“Not do the work? Oh, there’s nothing to it. You might have to take some joshing from the customers, but that will disappear soon enough. Before you
know it, everyone will forget that you used to work at the saloon.”

Little Nugget shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Don’t say that word. You can. You need only—”

“I can’t read nor write nor do numbers,” Little Nugget blurted out, her gaze snapping up to collide with Adele’s. Fragile pride glittered in her eyes and trembled on her lips. “I couldn’t write down no orders or read no menus or add up any bills.”

Adele was speechless for a few moments. Staring at the young woman across the table from her, she saw her anew. Little Nugget was seventeen and had no formal education. She worked in a saloon, being sold to men who cared nothing for her. Beaten and degraded, she had nonetheless held onto her pride, her integrity.

“You never went to school?” Adele asked.

“Nope. My pa never stayed put long. He went from gold strike to gold strike. After my mama died, nobody cared much for schooling. Even before she died, none of us were made to go to the schoolhouse, so we mostly stayed around the house and helped Mama and Papa in the fields.”

“You could learn to read and write. One of the women you work with would probably teach you.”

“None of them know such things either. Why do you think we do what we do?” She ran the tip of her finger along the edge of the bruise that marred her youthful beauty. “We don’t like being knocked around and having babies by men we don’t even know by name.”

Adele sat straighter. “You have a baby?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

“You’re pregnant?”

Little Nugget shook her head. “No, but my luck will run out someday and I’ll catch. Every other saloon gal I ever met has had babies or lost babies. But when you don’t have no schooling, there ain’t much you can do to get money. Once I worked doing laundry for a hotel, but the hotel owner came by my room late one night and raped me.” Tears collected in her eyes and she wiped them away with swift impatience. “I packed up and hit the trail the next day. I wasn’t going to stick around and let him have seconds.”

Adele shivered involuntarily, her heart going out to the young woman. She couldn’t imagine such a life. “I feel so sorry for you.”

“Don’t.” Little Nugget’s tone was bedrock hard, but her eyes were vulnerable. Pride tipped up her chin. “I’m not telling you this so you’ll get all weepy for me. I’m telling you so you know why I can’t work here. I’d be about as useful to you as a pump with no handle.”

“How many women in this town can’t read or write?” Adele asked. “Besides yourself, how many would you say?”

“Maybe a dozen. More, probably.”

Adele tapped her fingers on the tabletop as an idea formed and sparked her enthusiasm. She felt her mother’s spirit rise within her. “I could teach you.”

“Huh?”

“I could teach you!” Adele laughed, tickled by the sheer pleasure the task would give her. “I could hold classes for you and any others in this town who would like to learn to read and write. I could even teach simple addition and subtraction.”

“Why would you do that?” Little Nugget asked, clearly baffled. “There are plenty of others here in Whistle Stop who already know those things and would be glad to work here for you.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about finding workers. All I have to do is place an advertisement in an East Coast newspaper and I’m up to my neck in replies. I think every grown woman should know how to read and write.” She sandwiched one of Little Nugget’s gloved hands between her own. “I could hold the classes on Sunday afternoons. You don’t work then, do you?”

“No. The saloon and gaming hall are closed on Sundays. Terrapin doesn’t want any trouble with the ministers and holy rollers.”

“That’s perfect then. The restaurant is closed on Sundays, too. We could meet right after church here at the restaurant, and I’ll hold class. You’d need a few supplies, but I can get those. I’ll send off for school-books, writing paper and inkwells and pens.”

“I don’t know.” Little Nugget averted her gaze, and Adele could see that she was uncomfortable. “Taylor won’t like it.”

“Then don’t tell him. You want to learn, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but why would you do this? You work hard every day. You don’t want to be teaching classes on Sundays when you could be resting or visiting with your friends or being with your handsome husband.”

Adele felt her cheeks heat, but she pressed on. “Spending a few hours on Sunday to help others help themselves will be good for me.” She squeezed the young woman’s hand. “Please, Miss Little. I
want
to do this. Will you help me spread the word?”

A shy smile curved Little Nugget’s swollen mouth. “Sure. I guess.”

“Splendid!” Adele let go of her hand and sat back in the chair, relieved to have struck a deal. She smiled back at Little Nugget, catching something else in the girl’s expression. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Someone I met when I was a girl. Her name was Miss Tess Summar. She was full of ideas and wanted to help everybody who crossed her path, too.” Tugging at her gloves, she smiled tenderly. “She gave me my first pair of these. She said a lady never goes out without wearing a suitable hat and pretty gloves on her hands.”

“Was she—?”

Little Nugget seemed confused for a moment, then she caught on. “You mean a whore? No. Miss Summar was a fine lady. A doctor or nurse or something. I only knew her a few days, but I’ve never forgotten her kindness, her good heart.” Giving a sigh, she stood. “I’ll run upstairs for a minute to see Dead-eye Doris, if you don’t mind, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Why did you want to speak to me tonight?”

“I wanted to make sure everyone was all right.” She glanced at the windows. “He won’t stop at this. He squashes anything that gets in his way.”

“You came to warn me?” Adele asked, surprised by the gesture.

“Yes, and to warn Doris. Taylor is still making noise about making her come back to work for him. He’s got me worried. He’s like a stick of dynamite
waiting for a match. Anyway, you probably don’t need to be warned. You’re a smart lady and you know you’ve riled Taylor.” She moved toward the stairs. “When will these classes start up?”

“Next Sunday.”

“I’ll be here. Good night, Mrs. Adele.”

“Good night.” Adele sat alone in the restaurant. A knot tightened in her stomach. Was she being stubborn to the point of foolishness?

She didn’t believe that Taylor Terrapin would kill her over this point of contention, but then what did she really know about the man? He could have killed women before for inconsequential things. From what Little Nugget said, he was capable of anything. It was obvious that she was worried for Mrs. McDonald’s safety and for her own.

Why couldn’t Sally see the evil in Terrapin? How could she love a man who hit women, who threatened to kill them?

Moving quietly into her quarters, Adele eased toward the bedroom, not wanting to disturb Reno. He needed his rest, especially after what he’d done this afternoon. Why, that rascal, sneaking off to chase down that skunk Yancy—

“Well, God’s nightgown,” Adele whispered, staring at the empty bed. “I’ll kill him!”

Under cover of night Reno met with his banker.

Paul Green glanced around nervously as he let Reno slip in the back door of the bank.

“Did you get the money?”

“Came in this morning,” Paul said, moving past Reno to his office at the back of the building. “Quite
a lot of money, I might add. Who is this Lewis Fields?”

“My business partner.”

“What kind of business?” Paul asked, sitting behind his desk and looking official.

“Anything illegal—slave trade, of course.” Reno grinned at Paul’s startled expression. “That’s what you were expecting me to say, wasn’t it?”

Paul cleared his throat and had the good grace to blush. “I was hoping for the truth.”

“The truth.” Reno sighed. “That’s almost as exciting as the lie I just told. Suffice it to say, Paul, that our business is legitimate. I wanted the money sent because I’ve decided to purchase a building here in this cowardly little town and give the people a taste of Reno Gold’s way of doing business. I figure Terrapin’s had it to himself long enough.” Grinning broadly, Reno hooked his thumbs into his vest pockets. “Competition can be fun.”

“Competition?” Paul swallowed hard. “Just what are you scheming this time, Reno?”

“I’m not scheming. I’m dealing. I made a deal with a man named Gus Franklin today. He saw me whip Yancy Stummer and he wanted to shake my hand. Later we shook on a certain building he owns and was looking to sell.”

“Gus owns several buildings.” Paul started ticking them off on his fingers. “Two houses on Broad Street, the land building, the old Rusty Kettle Saloon—”

Reno made a gun out of his hand and “shot” the banker. “There you go. The saloon.”

Paul blinked and stared, dumbfounded. “The saloon.
What are you planning to do with that barn of a place?”

“Oh, I thought I’d open it up for business. I telegraphed for a load of whiskey and beer to be sent by rail. It should be here by the end of the week.”

Paul ran a hand down his face. “I don’t believe you, Gold. Have you lost your ever lovin’ mind? Opening a saloon across the street from Terrapin’s Black Knight? He won’t stand for that.”

“Then he can damn well sit for it,” Reno said, giving a devilish wink, “’cause I’m going to open me a saloon.” He swept a hand in front of him in a grand gesture. “The Lucky Strike. How does that sound to you?”

“Like a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Because Terrapin—”

“No more talk about Terrapin,” Reno demanded, swiping aside the subject. “I’m sick of hearing about him. I’m not going to tuck tail and run every time he strides down the street.”