The Law and Miss Penny (10 page)

Of course, Mariah had plenty of reason to fear that same thing. "Worried? Goodness me, whatever for?"

"I don't know exactly. It's just a feeling, I guess." Cain flattened his palm against his chest and raised his voice a notch. "There's something ugly in here, Mariah, something evil, and I don't want you or the family to be around me when it breaks loose. It might be better for you folks if I were to 'find' myself alone."

Mariah's stomach lurched. She knew some of the fears he spoke of, for she'd seen his mean side before—but evil? He'd been a lawman, on the side of right and good. How could Cain even think that he'd once been an evil man? He had to be misreading his gut.

But even as the denials spread through her mind, she remembered the look in his eye back in Bucksnort, the sheer malevolence radiating out from the depths of his soul. She dreaded the day his memory would return, all right—she was no fool. He would be mad as hell, and most of that anger would be directed at her. But then she thought of his leaving, of never seeing him again, and she dug in for a fight.

For the first time in her life, Mariah Penny had a man. Oh, not in every sense of the word, and since he thought he was her cousin, she would probably never know him any more intimately than she already did. But except for that one little detail, the kind of thing that went on between most husbands and wives, she had a man. One she could shape into exactly the kind of man she'd always dreamed of, for as long as his mind remained a blank. She would, Mariah decided, worry about his memory returning when that day came. In the meantime...

Mariah turned her brightest smile on Cain, took him by the hand, and rose up from the mattress. "You know what, Cousin Cain?"

Charmed by her brilliant smile, not to mention the cute little way she was tugging at him, Cain climbed to his feet. "What is it, princess?"

"You worry too much. You can fret all you want to about the little nasties you find inside you once your memory returns, but not before. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if I didn't have to hear any more talk about you leaving. Why don't you go on outside now. There's a little job you can do for me while I get ready for the show." She pushed him toward the doorway.

Cain laughed as he said, "I believe in your medicines now, I swear I do, Mariah. But if what you've got in mind involves tasting a new variety of wizard oil, I'd just as soon pass on the job."

"No tasting, I promise. I just want you to help Oda gather some herbs and mold from the creek bottom while I dress. Later, I might let you in on another of our secret recipes." She paused and looked over her shoulder. "How'd you like to help me whip up a batch of Sagwa Worm Syrup tonight?"

At the foot of the steps, Cain made a face and clutched his stomach. "Worm syrup? You're going to market some kind of cure for earthworms?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sagwa Worm Syrup is for people with tapeworms. You've still got a lot to learn, Brother Law, but if you turn out to be a good enough helper, Oda might even put your name on the label." Chuckling to herself, Mariah pulled the door shut behind her.

Cain glanced toward the river, his thoughts suddenly dark. Oda was on her hands and knees—searching the banks, he supposed, for the herbs and mold Mariah had mentioned. He took a step toward her, and then balked. He didn't want to go down there. A voice in the back of his mind whispered, "You'll be helping the devil himself with his own brew."

Cain shuddered, wondering where that bit of information had come from, and tried once again to start for the creek. His feet refused to move. He did not want to help Oda, and he would not let them put his name on any of their medicine labels.

Cain hadn't the foggiest notion of
why
he felt that way. He just did.

Chapter 5

In spite of his reservations about the products, Cain came to care deeply for the Pennys over the next two weeks, and even began to think of them as his family. His memory had yet to return, but he'd come to terms with this new Cain Law, and even found a certain peace within himself.

The strange rage still lay coiled in his gut like a hibernating dragon, and every now and then, a little twinge warned him that it might just raise its ugly head again. But as the days went on, the awareness of this malicious thing inside himself faded to an occasional burst of unexplained irritation. Other than that, he felt a distinct calm, along with an almost delicious sense of peace.

Cain also began to make himself useful to the medicine show, although his contribution to the actual hawking and selling of wares remained nebulous, and at times, nonexistent. In the little burg of Pagosa Springs he turned out to be more of an interested observer than a bouncer. He supposed the real test of his worth would come in the larger towns such Durango or Denver.

In the meantime, not only did he help Mariah in the preparation of the medicines they would sell—including Sagwa Worm Syrup,
with
Brother Law's name on the label—but he also came up with an effective way to advertise the show as they traveled down the road to Durango. Without halting or even slowing the wagons, Cain would dig into a goatskin trunk filled with advertising circulars, grab a handful of the fliers, and leap off the wagon. Then, after tacking the circulars to fence posts and telegraph poles along the way, he'd leap back aboard the cart, laughing along with Mariah over how long or fast he'd had to run to catch up with her again.

Of course, every time that happened, Cain would have to turn away before he got too caught up in her infectious laughter or playful eyes. Before he forgot she was his cousin again.

That persistent little problem with Mariah was really the only difficulty Cain continued to stumble over in the face of all this newfound contentment, but once they arrived in Durango, he was pretty sure he'd come up with a plan to alleviate even that. All he need do was convince Zack to grant him a small loan. Then he would head on down Main Avenue to Tenth Street, where he was told the saloon business thrived. And he would go there alone.

* * *

Far from wealthy, but comfortable financially, the Penny family always stayed in the best hotels available along the show route each year. When not selling their wares in the more cosmopolitan towns, Mariah always dressed and behaved like a proper young lady, and to avoid being recognized as Princess Tanacoa, she took the precaution of obscuring her features under oversized bonnets.

For that same reason, she pretty much stayed hidden in her room most of the time, and usually only ate in the hotel restaurant the first and last nights in town. In between, Zack and Oda brought her meals to her in her room. Mariah didn't mind the isolation too much, although the show season lasted anywhere from seven to ten months of the year. Because of this, she didn't get much chance to meet many people her own age, men in particular. But she really hadn't been interested in finding a man of her own before now. Before Cain.

All she'd ever really aspired to since she'd come of age was having one of her nostrums accepted by the general public on a nationwide basis, the way her idol had when she formed the Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Company. If Lydia Pinkham could do it, so could Mariah Penny. In fact, she'd written to Mrs. Pinkham on several occasions asking for a little business advice. So far, all she'd gotten in return for her trouble were a few letters which were nothing more than advertisements for the famous Pinkham Compound, but Mariah remained undaunted.

Now safely ensconced in her room at the Strater Hotel, she dropped down on the fluffy bed, testing the softness of the mattress. It was firm, but resilient—just the way she liked it. She breathed deeply, inhaling the rich aroma of crisp new fabrics and Belgian wool rugs, and then ran her fingers across the bedspread. Slick and cool to the touch, it was made of sea-green chintz embroidered with clusters of bright blue forget-me-nots, a match to the pair of curtains hanging in front of the only window in the room: a wide, floor-to-ceiling sheet of glass sectioned into four panes.

The bed itself, made of oiled walnut, sported a tall carved headboard with matching canopy, and beside it sat a small table and a Queen Anne chair upholstered in blood-red velvet. Across from it was a large walnut armoire with carved finials and dark wainscoting, and a matching washstand featuring a marble top and a huge mirror. Over by the window, a small desk and chair provided a comfortable place in which to jot letters on the hotel stationery.

First class all the way, Mariah thought to herself. She fantasized that she was the first guest to touch the chintz bedspread or to pour water into the porcelain washbowl. Given the newness of the hotel, that might even be possible, she realized. Mariah chuckled at the idea. What would the management think if they knew a fake Kickapoo Indian and her mongrel dog were the first occupants of room 222? They'd probably puff up like purple globefish and explode, she thought, laughing aloud at the image.

She glanced in the direction of Daisy, who'd been smuggled into the hotel along with her mistress. The dog was lying on the floor near the door, her tiny black nose pushed up against the crack between the floor and the bottom edge of the door. Her little black ears were pointed at the ceiling in anticipation, and even the pert tuft of white fur between her ears seemed more peak-like than usual, as if alert, too.

Every now and then Daisy would whine, calling, Mariah supposed, for the new light of her life, Cain Law. The dog had completely attached herself to him the last few weeks, and nothing Mariah did could tear the little animal away from Cain's side, save for occasions like this where Daisy was locked away from him.

"You really are a little turncoat," Mariah said to her pet as she stashed beneath the bed the soft damask valise she used for transporting Daisy to and from her hotel room. "Don't come crying to me when the new love of your life leaves us. He will someday, you know." At those last words—at the very real truth of them—Mariah's heart skipped a beat.
Not yet,
she prayed,
please, not yet.

Someone knocked at the door then. She leapt off the bed, and as she crossed the room, she heard her father's voice sound through the thick oak barrier.

"Mariah, baby—it's me and your mother. Let us in."

Mariah opened the door, and waved both Zack and Oda inside.

"Is your room this grand?" she asked them.

Zack whistled long and low as he took in the rich appointments. "Ayuh. I believe maybe the citizens of Durango may have cause to lay claim to their town being the Denver of southern Colorado after all. This here hotel is evrah bit as first class as The Windsor in Denver, wouldn't you say, missus?"

Oda cast a glance around Mariah's room, and then shrugged. "I expect. Let's go eat."

To keep Daisy from running out into the hall to search for the new object of her devotion, Mariah kicked the door shut. "Where's Cain? Isn't he taking supper with us?"

Zack shot at uneasy glance at Oda. "Not tonight, honey. He, ah, decided to have a look around town instead."

"Whatever for?" Mariah shooed Daisy from underfoot, sending her to a corner of the room. "Couldn't he have waited until tomorrow and let us show him around?"

Zack hedged. "Ayuh... actually, no, baby. He was wanting to go in on his own so's he could have a little fun by hisself."

"Fun?" Mariah wrinkled her nose and looked at Oda. Her mother's expression, impassive as usual, seemed strange for a moment, but then that little hint that there was more than Zack let on faded away. Mariah turned back to her father, her eyes narrowed. "What kind of fun can a man whose pockets are turned inside out have in Durango?"

"He ain't exactly flat busted no more," Oda said, surprising both Mariah and her husband with this generous wealth of information.

"Why not?"

"'Cause of me," Zack said. "I gave him the 'loan' of a little of his own money—about twenty bucks' worth."

"What? Why in all that's holy would you do a thing like that? We had him right where we wanted him—beholding to us."

"Oh, he's still beholding to us, baby, don't you worry your pretty head about it. He's beholding about another twenty bucks' worth is all."

"But... oh, I guess it doesn't really matter." It was, after all, his money. But, feeling a little jealous of Cain's freedom relative to her own, she had to ask, "What kind of fun is he planning to have in town that he can't have with us?"

"That ain't none of your concern, young lady." Zack turned to the door, bringing the discussion to a close. "Cain is a grown man. I'm sure he'll come up with a lot of ways to spend that money, and not a one of those ways is any of our business. Now why don't we all go downstairs and see what kind of chef this fancy establishment has in the kitchen?"