Lucky Penny (18 page)

He made short work of closing the distance to Daphne. Once he gained the dais, he swept the child up into his arms and turned to face the audience. “Good evening to all of you,” he said in a booming voice. “I’m David Paxton, Daphne’s father. After our marriage several years ago, her mother and me were separated.” He made a circular motion near his temple. “I guess you could say I lost my mind. I definitely got a maggot in my brain about striking it rich in the Denver area, and it took me a spell to get my head on
straight and come here to collect my family. To celebrate our reunion, my wife and me decided to
repeat
our wedding vows. Judge Afton was happy to oblige.” He stepped down from the dais. “This is a fabulous recital. I hope all of you enjoy the rest of it.”

Brianna slumped against the wall. The man was hopeless. He’d done it again, using
me
when he should have said
I
. Even so, tears scalded her eyes as she watched him stride up the aisle, holding her daughter as if she were a precious gem. He’d just tried to save her reputation. It wouldn’t work, of course. Tongues would wag with rampant speculation, and there would be people who would never forget, rekindling the scandalous gossip at every opportunity. Life as Brianna had known it in Glory Ridge was over.

She wondered if the polecat expected her to be grateful because he’d tried to salvage the situation. Hell would freeze over first. No doubt it would suit him just fine if she remained here and let him leave with Daphne. He had charmed the vinegar out of Abigail, but Brianna wasn’t that foolish. With only one exception, she’d never met a man yet who hadn’t tried to touch her inappropriately, usually with force, or do her dirty financially, oftentimes both. Paxton just hoped to depart with Daphne, leaving Brianna behind so he’d have only a child to deal with. A six-year-old was a lot easier to hoodwink than a grown woman.

David didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Out of the mouths of babes.
He had heard his nephew, Little Ace, let fly with some revelations that had badly embarrassed his parents, but never had he said anything to equal Daphne’s ecstatic announcement.
Holy hell.
The child didn’t understand the ramifications, but David definitely did. He had tried to save the situation, but he knew it had been a pathetic attempt. His rebuttal had been received with disapproving glares and silence. If he had plotted and schemed for a month, he couldn’t have lassoed Brianna more effectively. She couldn’t possibly remain in Glory Ridge now.

As he collected his wife and guided her from the church, he could feel the brittle tension that radiated from her thin frame. Under the light pressure of his hand, her spine felt as if it
might snap like a parched twig. Chin lifted, her face deathly white in the moon glow, she kept her eyes trained straight ahead, not even watching where she put her feet. The woman looked like she’d just seen a whole flock of spooks.

“Prairie-dog hole.” David curled his fingers over her hip to steer her around the hazard. He felt her body jerk at his touch. Once the danger passed, he returned his palm to the small of her back. “Are you all right?”

She made no reply. Daphne didn’t share her mother’s reticence. “Papa, what did I say wrong? Everybody made funny noises like they were choking.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t say anything wrong.” David searched his brain for something more comforting to say. “Your mama and me are so
proud
of you.”

“I,”
Brianna snapped. “If you’re going to talk to my daughter, you shall use correct English, sir.”

David saw another prairie-dog hole and was sorely tempted to let the snooty little witch step in it. Instead he guided her around it and said to his child, “Your mama and
I
are so very proud. You never made a single mistake in your recitation! You totally outclassed Hope. The teacher had to remind her of her lines. Great job, darlin’!”

“Hope is the most popular girl in my class,” Daphne informed him with a twinge of envy in her voice.

David couldn’t understand why. Hope was a singularly homely child compared to his beautiful, sweet-natured Daphne. She had drab brown pigtails, unremarkable features, and a superior manner, as if she were God’s gift to humanity. Were the kids in Daphne’s class blind or just small-town stupid? David had never experienced the protective feelings of a father. They hit him like an ocean wave now. He wanted to knock little heads together. Wasn’t that a fine kettle of fish? He couldn’t browbeat his daughter’s classmates into liking her. Ah, well, by this time tomorrow night, she’d be miles away from there, and if David had his way, she’d never see any of the narrow-minded little buggers again.

Brianna had been exhausted more times than she could count, but tonight she had moved beyond that to a muscle-
melting weariness that made it difficult to lift her feet. This day had been the longest in her recent memory, and the worst part was, she couldn’t look forward to dropping like a corpse onto her and Daphne’s cot to grab a few hours of sleep. Though she now realized she couldn’t remain in Glory Ridge, she still needed to go to the restaurant tonight, not for the wages she might earn, but for the food she could steal. She and her daughter couldn’t take off on a hired horse with nothing to eat. They would languish from hunger and never reach their destination. She had no weapon to kill wild game. She doubted her knife, once used to discourage Charles Ricker’s amorous advances and now hidden under the cot mattress, would do the trick. She couldn’t run fast enough to catch a rabbit.

She glanced blearily at the Colt .45 that rode Paxton’s hip, wondering if it was suitable for killing small game. Oh, how she wished she could slip it from the holster without his noticing.
Highly unlikely.
And even if she managed, she’d never been trained to use a firearm. She’d probably take aim at a fleeing hare and shoot herself in the foot.

Tangled thoughts scurried around in her tired mind as she contemplated her situation. The first order of business was to reach the attic room and quickly pack their possessions. Then she’d take everything, including her child, to the restaurant. With any luck, the establishment would be deserted. Sometimes the owner stayed late to bedevil her in the kitchen, but mostly on Friday nights, he stayed home, pretending to be a devoted husband. She’d remain there only long enough to pilfer sufficient food for a journey to another town. Then she’d walk to the livery to hire a horse. It would mean riding through the night to the nearest railway station. Hopefully, there would be no delay before they could catch a train. They needed to get away quickly, giving Paxton no opportunity to follow them. She sent up a quick prayer of thanks for what she’d saved of Daphne’s dress money. If she spent it wisely, it might see them through until she found another job.

The entire day had been a blur of endless emotional upsets, probably magnified by her lack of sleep the previous night. How would she accomplish all that needed to be
done? She wasn’t sure riding a horse would be as easy as it looked. While growing up at the orphanage, she’d seen others riding in the park, but there had been no opportunity for her to take lessons. The one time Ricker had tried to get her in the saddle, the huge animal had stepped on her foot and then bitten her. She’d refused to go near a horse again. Milking the dratted cows had been bad enough, a skill that had taken her weeks to learn and had almost cost her the job. Then there’d been his infernal chickens. Every morning she’d gotten her hands pecked bloody by outraged hens when she went to collect the eggs. She’d finally learned not to apologize for the invasion in advance. Forewarned broody hens became viciously protective.

The thought brought Brianna back to awareness of the man who walked beside her, one hand pressed to her back while he managed Daphne’s weight with his other arm. The cloak-draped child, apparently as exhausted as her mother, had looped her thin arms around his neck and fallen into boneless slumber, with her head lolling on his shoulder.
I am forewarned of the theft you hope to perpetrate,
Brianna thought,
and I will peck much more viciously at your stealing hands than any hen that ever lived.
Brave words. The way Paxton wore that gun conveyed that he knew how to use it. Not that he would need a weapon other than superior strength to overwhelm her.

In that moment, Brianna ached so badly and her limbs felt so leaden that she yearned to drop to her knees and fold her arms over the back of her head. But that wasn’t going to happen. She was an O’Keefe, a descendant of at least one parent who must have been a stubborn, irrepressible rebel. She would
not
fold under pressure. She was made of stronger stuff.

They reached the dress shop, and Paxton slowed his pace to a halt.

David wasn’t sure what came next. Thanks to Daphne’s announcement at the recital, Brianna’s choices had been trimmed down to one, their leaving for No Name. Yet how could he say that to her? He sensed that she needed to reach that conclusion by herself, and when he searched her
eyes, shimmering like quicksilver in the moonlight, he glimpsed something that made him take notice.
Rebellious determination.
He’d seen it before many times in the eyes of people suspected of crimes. When backed into a corner, they had one thought: run.

Okay. He was ready for that and would foil any attempt she made to escape with his child. But,
damn
, he was tired. He’d been on the trail for three days. Judging by Brianna’s expression, David knew he wouldn’t be enjoying that soft bed at the hotel.

Gazing down at her, he was once again impressed by her grit. She looked even more played out than he was, yet she planned to bolt the moment he turned his back.

Though David knew he was wasting his breath, he said, “You look ready to drop in your tracks, and I’ll bet part of the reason is you haven’t slept in a comfortable bed for way too long. I’ll happily rent you and Daphne a room at the local Taj Mahal. After a good night’s sleep, we can discuss this mess in the morning.”

“You know about the Taj Mahal?” she retorted. “That’s utterly amazing.”

David tried not to bristle. Maybe she talked fancier than he did, but he had a decent education. Way back when, Ace had paid David’s tuition with his gambling proceeds, and the nuns at the parochial school hadn’t allowed any slackers. “It took a thousand elephants to carry the construction materials to build the Taj Mahal,” David informed her, “and it was embedded with precious and semiprecious stones that, to this day, make it seem to change colors, depending on the light. Some folks believe Shah Jahan did that on purpose, to reflect the changing moods of a woman.”

Her chin came up a notch. “My moods may be mercurial, but my assessments of character remain rock solid. I wouldn’t enter a hotel with you for any amount of money.”

As weary as David was, he couldn’t help but laugh. She was definitely a corker, a woman who’d keep him on his toes. A fleeting image of Hazel Wright flashed through his head, and he thanked God he had escaped that fate. He would have been bored silly. He appreciated a quick wit
spiced with temper. Brianna was a lady he sensed would keep him entertained, both in bed and out of it.

“That being the case, sir,” she continued, “I propose that we both find our rest in our respective places and meet in the morning.” She withdrew her watch from her skirt pocket, popped open the case, and peered owlishly at its face. “Shall we say eight? The restaurant is in full service by then. We can discuss our next move over breakfast.”

David knew damned well she had no intention of meeting him for breakfast. If he slept in until seven, she’d be long gone with his daughter. Telling her he knew that, however, would be a mistake. He’d dealt with plenty of runners during his career as a lawman, and he would keep his own counsel. Whether she realized it or not, she’d met her match.

So instead of arguing the point, David agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. After entering the dress shop with her, handing her the sleeping child, and collecting his saddlebags, he bade her good night and walked to the hotel, yawning along the way in case she was watching. He wanted her to get the impression that he’d fallen for her lie and planned to sleep like a baby all night.

Nothing was farther from the truth. Upon entering the hotel room, David gathered his things—shaving gear and soiled clothing—stuffed them into his saddlebags, and without a single backward glance at the bed, which had been calling his name ever since his arrival, left the hotel and walked to the livery stable. He found a shadowy spot behind the rattletrap wagon, sat on the ground with his back to the equally dilapidated building, and settled in to wait for his runaway bride.

Brianna laid Daphne on a bench in the restaurant kitchen, which was blessedly dark, and straightened with an effort. Oh, how she longed to sink down beside the child and let exhaustion overwhelm her. But that wasn’t an option. She had food to collect before going to the livery. Hopefully David Paxton was dead to the world by now.

Feeling her way to a counter, Brianna groped for the
lantern and the book of Diamond matches that always lay near its base. Then, after fumbling to remove the glass globe and turn up the wick, she struck the phosphorous match head and ignited the lamp. When light bathed the room, Brianna barely glanced at the piles of dirty dishes and the food-smeared counters and stoves. She’d be donning no apron tonight. She drew a wadded pillowcase from the pocket of her skirt, snapped it open, and grabbed the lamp.

The pantry, a narrow room lined with shelves and iceboxes, was spooky at night with her shadow dancing over the walls. She set aside the lantern to begin foraging. An ache of guilt settled in her chest. She could almost hear Sister Theresa saying, “Thou shalt not steal.” The preaching had fallen upon rebellious but fertile ground, and over the last six years, Brianna had never taken anything without praying for forgiveness. Ah, well, there was no help for it. She had to get away and rely on God’s understanding that she was doing this for her child. Besides, she’d worked all week and had wages coming. She’d also put in countless extra hours without ever getting paid. Thinking of it that way, she found it easy to convince herself that this wasn’t
really
stealing.