Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona (7 page)

“I have a man inside who’ll watch out for you. No one will get near you while you’re here. I can’t say the same if you stand outside.”

“All right. It seems I must.”

Christy lifted her chin and followed him through the doorway leading into the noisy Oriental Saloon. Her eyes darted around the room, barely grasping the opulence spread before her. A piano and a violin both played a brisk tune not far from the end of the highly polished bar running the width of the room. Lush carpet covered much of the floor rather than the typical rough-cut lumber she’d been accustomed to in businesses like this. The mirror behind the bar reflected the gaming tables scattered around the room, as well as the women drifting from one to another serving drinks. Christy wrinkled her nose as cigar smoke hit her. She’d always hated the smell, and now she remembered why.

Townsley beckoned to a tall, slender man in a dark suit who stood back from a faro table. “Doc, I need you.”

The man called Doc moved forward, his gaze trained on Townsley. “How may I help?”

“This is Miss Grey, Joshua Grey’s sister.”

Christy noted a flash of surprise as the cold eyes met hers.

“I see.” Some other expression crossed his face too. Speculation or anticipation…she couldn’t be sure.

“This is Doc Holliday,” Townsley explained. “He’s usually at the faro table or sitting in a game of poker, but there’s not a man in the place who will trifle with him. You’ll be safe in his care.”

Doc brought his arm across his waist and bowed low. “Pleased, ma’am.”

Townsley dropped his voice, leaning closer to Holliday. “You see Grey today?”

“He was here earlier. Not sure if he’s still around. I’ll stay with the lady while you look.”

“Thanks.” Townsley pushed through the milling crowd.

Christy lost sight of him as he bent low over a table of men playing cards. She allowed her gaze to roam over the room once again, then slowly returned her attention to the man beside her, trying not to stare. Doc Holliday was a legend. His fame had even reached into the small mining community of Last Chance. He had a Colt .45 strapped to his hip, and the handle of a knife protruded from a sheath to the left of his belt buckle. She’d heard of his prowess with both weapons. More than one man turned his attention away from her now when they noted the man standing close by. Somehow his nearness did little to assuage her anxiety, however. She didn’t belong in this place, and neither did Joshua. When she got her hands on her little brother, she’d convince him to change his ways.

Loud voices lifted above the hum. Christy turned her attention toward the commotion. A man pushed back from a table halfway across the crowded gambling floor and threw his cards on the table. “You’re a low-down cheat, Coulter.”

A chill raced up Christy’s spine. Her brother stood with his hand hovering over the lapel of his coat where she knew he favored hiding a gun.

A raw-boned man wearing a bow tie and a white shirt shoved his chair back and glared. “Watch what you call me, son. I’m a dead shot, and you’ll be buried before sundown if you’re not careful.”

Joshua snarled a curse and his hand stiffened.

Christy sprang forward, pushing past Doc Holliday’s outstretched arm. “Joshua, wait!”

Her high-pitched cry froze the room. The piano and violin hushed, and the slowing roulette wheel clicked loudly in the silence. Joshua kept his gaze on the waiting Coulter.

Christy pushed through the men separating her from her brother. “Joshua, it’s me, Christy. Please don’t fight that man.”

His hand wavered and then dropped to his side. He drew in a sharp, hard breath and broke his gaze free, sweeping his hand over the small stack of coins on the table and dumping them into his coat pocket. “You’re gettin’ off easy this time, Coulter. Next time you cheat, my sister won’t be around to save your hide.”

The buzz in the room resumed, and the men at the table picked up their cards and commenced playing as though nothing unpleasant had happened.

Christy rushed to her brother’s side, barely sensing Doc Holliday’s presence behind her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Joshua swiveled toward her and scowled. “You don’t belong in here. Get out and go see Ma.”

She jerked back, feeling as though she’d been struck. The brother she remembered would never have spoken to her this way. “Joshua, I don’t know where Ma lives.”

Gordon Townsley stepped over and touched her arm. “Miss Grey, allow me?”

Christy wasn’t sure what the man planned, but right now she felt at a complete loss and could only nod.

He threw a hard look at Joshua. “Why don’t you walk your sister home, Grey? She’s had a long stage ride, and I’m sure she’d like to rest and see her ma. You can come back later when you’ve cooled off.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched. “Fine. Let’s go.” He stalked past Christy and headed for the door.

Nevada exited the livery stable where he’d put up his horse and strolled onto the bustling main street. He hadn’t been able to get the picture of the injured woman out of his mind. If only he’d paid more attention when she’d stepped off the stage and not let her out of his sight. It occurred to him that she might need to purchase some things after arriving in town or even be staying at a local boardinghouse. Spending time walking the streets wouldn’t be a bad idea.

This place certainly lived up to its reputation as a booming mining town. Freight wagons rolled past, loaded with ore drawn by mule teams boasting ten and twelve strong. Men loitered on street corners, and a shopkeeper swept the boardwalk in front of his establishment while keeping an eye open for prospective customers. A cat raced between two buildings with a burly man not far behind. Nevada scratched his head and grinned at the comical sight. Must be a tolerable mouse or rat problem if men chased cats up the alleyways.

The door of a saloon a block away slammed open, and a young man stalked out. He didn’t bother to check for passersby but barreled onto the boardwalk, pushing through anyone who got in his way. More than one man tossed an oath at his back as he headed up the street away from Nevada. Must have lost at the gaming tables. Nevada suppressed a chuckle. Hopefully the young fellow would learn early that a man and his money are easily parted in places like this one.

Seconds later a young lady dashed out, waving her hand. He couldn’t understand the words she called over the noise in the street, but she looked fit to be tied. Poor woman. Must be hard up if she had to work in a saloon and chase down customers when they wanted to leave. Nevada made it a half block in the opposite direction when realization hit him hard. That green dress and hat…he’d seen it before—a few hours ago, to be exact. Why hadn’t he paid closer attention? He whirled around and started forward, looking up the street on both sides. Straining to see through the crowd, he tried to get a glimpse of the green dress, but both the man and woman had disappeared as though they hadn’t existed.

He slowed his pace, disappointment slapping at him. When had he started fantasizing the girl needed rescuing and he could be the one to do so? Obviously she could take care of herself if she’d already made her way to a gambling hall. Had she come to Tombstone for that reason and gone straight to the business wanting to hire her? He shook his head in disgust. Never had he understood women who lured men to drink themselves into a stupor for a living—or worse.

Yet, somehow, he still wished he’d gotten a glimpse of her face.

Christy’s ire rose with each step and she clenched her fingers into fists as she hurried along behind her brother. Joshua strode ahead without looking back. When she caught up, she’d love to box his ears like she’d done when he was a little scrap. What had changed the young man she remembered into someone ready to pick a fight? Even two years ago, when she’d last seen him, he hadn’t evidenced this degree of anger. She realized men in this country must stand up for what they believed, and if a card shark was cheating, it might be appropriate to call him on it. But drawing your gun and killing the man? No. That was too much.

They left the business district behind and entered a row of houses. Shacks, more like it. She shuddered as she looked around. Ma would never agree to live like this. At least she didn’t have to worry about Joshua stopping at one of these hovels.

“Joshua.” Christy raised her voice, making sure he could hear her, but he didn’t slow his pace.

And men thought women were cantankerous creatures. She grasped her skirt with one hand and lifted her hem. Time to catch that young scamp before he arrived wherever he might be headed.

“I say, Joshua. Wait for me!” The increased pace jarred her arm and she gasped. She gritted her teeth and kept going. A few more trotting strides and she almost drew even with her brother. “Joshua, stop walking this minute.”

He seemed to wake from an angry stupor and came to an abrupt halt, letting her plunge on past him two full steps before catching herself and stopping. “What? Can’t you see I’m heading home?”

Panting for breath, she placed her hand over her heart to still its racing. “I had no notion where you might be headed, but I’ll admit I’d hoped it wasn’t home, considering our surroundings.” She glanced around her at the low adobe buildings and the shanties built out of scraps of lumber—some covered with only a canvas roof that a strong puff of wind could easily remove.

Joshua rounded on her and crossed his arms on his chest. “You too good for the likes of this family now, that it? You been gone so long you forgot what it’s like to be poor?”

Christy felt the blood drain from her face. “Poor? Like that?” She flicked her fingers toward the closest hut, where a woman stepped out of the door and onto the dirt road. From her scanty attire, barely covered by a shawl, her occupation was apparent. Was she going to work at one of the saloons, or did she bring her business home with her? The door opened again, and a grizzled, balding man emerged, snapping his suspenders and grinning.

Christy stared in horror as Joshua sped up again, then a block later slowed in front of a fence badly in need of paint. “Do you mean to tell me you actually live in one of these…houses?” Christy’s heart lurched into her throat. She couldn’t get out of this neighborhood soon enough to suit her.

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Joshua.” She touched his arm, but he drew back. “What’s happened to you since I last saw you? Why are you so…angry?”

“Ha. Angry, is it? Good question, big sister.” The last two words came out with a sneer. “You’re off livin’ the high life with your fancy ranch friends while Ma and I are strugglin’ to survive here in this hole.”

“But I thought Logan left money for you before he headed to his mining claim. If you were careful, it should’ve lasted a long time. Ma could’ve had a nice little house in a good part of town. What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything.” He dragged his fingers through his dark red hair, the only thing they shared in common besides their mother.

Her pa had died when she was young, and Ma didn’t waste any time marrying again. Christy had loved her stepfather, Michael Grey—also Joshua’s pa—and taken his name. When Michael died, though, Ma took up with a no-account miner turned gambler named Logan Malone. Joshua idolized the man…even more so when he’d left them a sack full of gold before hitting the trail a year or so ago. Ma sent her a telegram at the time, asking if she wanted to come live with her and help celebrate her good fortune. Christy had gently declined.

“What do you mean, everything?” She placed her hand on her hip. “Where’s the rest of the money?”

“We don’t have much of it left.”

Christy narrowed her eyes. Suspicion mounted as she pushed aside the throbbing in her arm. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she took a step closer. “What happened, little brother?”

“Never you mind. It’s gone, and we can’t get it back.”

“Gone?” Christy grabbed his hand and drew him toward her. “Did you gamble it all?”

He jerked away as though her fingers were iron bands ready to clamp around his wrists. “Let’s go home. Ma’s gonna worry.”

“Huh. Funny you’d think of that now.” She knew when to back off, but one way or another, she’d get to the truth. A thought drifted through her consciousness—something she’d heard Alexia say more than once.
When all looks lost, don’t believe what your eyes tell you. Pray instead.

Christy hadn’t put too much stock in prayer over the years. But peace appeared to be coming to an end, and prayer might be something she’d need to consider.

Joshua stomped away and rapidly covered another half block to an area parallel and behind the main business district. He then swerved and entered a weed-strewn yard through a gate hanging by one hinge. He beckoned her forward. “Forgot to ask. Where’s your bags? Didn’t you bring nothin’ with you to wear?”

“Yes. I couldn’t carry my trunk. The stage driver told us to pick up our belongings at the livery stable anytime today or tomorrow. Maybe we could rent a wagon and you can help me? I can’t use this arm to lift much.” She waved her bandaged limb away from her body.

“I don’t have money for a wagon. What happened to your arm?” He walked the last short distance to the squat adobe house that didn’t look big enough to house one person, much less three.

“The stage got held up, and a stray bullet took a chunk out of it.”

He swung toward her, genuine concern clouding his eyes. “You need to see the doc?”

Tears sprang to her eyes at the caring reflected in Joshua’s voice. “I already did, and I’ll be fine.” She reached out her good arm and drew him into a hug. “I’ve missed you, little brother.”

His words were muffled, but his voice sounded softer and more like the brother she’d remembered from years ago. “You too, sis. I’m sorry for…everything.”

The front door opened, and a young man bolted down the path toward them, skidding to a halt before he ran into Christy. “Sorry, Miss. Didn’t see you.” He glanced at Joshua and back at her, then sidled a little closer. “You belong to this house?”

“I beg your pardon?” Christy took a step back, unsure what the boy intended.

He held out his hand, palm up. “I need to get paid.”

Joshua pushed forward. “For what?”

“I brung that woman in there a telegram. I was told by the man at the office she’d pay me. But all she did was snatch it outta my hand. I want my money.”

Joshua shoved the young man backwards and skirted around him. “You’re not gettin’ nothin’ from me. Now get along with you, and tell your boss to pay you next time.”

Suddenly a loud keening broke the stillness of the early afternoon, sending a shiver up Christy’s spine. It reverberated like a lost soul who’d discovered they can never return to where they belonged.

She bolted up the path on Joshua’s heels.
Ma.
Christy had never heard the woman cry before, much less scream the way she carried on now. Another wail met her as she forced her way through the partly closed front door, right before the stench hit her. She wasn’t sure which made her knees the weakest—the unearthly moans coming from a back room, or the horrible smell assaulting her senses.