To Wed a Wanton Woman (25 page)

“Are you going to talk to me?”

Train dropped the hammer to the ground and turned
around. His chest rose and fell from exertion. He ran his fingers through his
hair, then put his hat back on. He took his flannel shirt from the post and
slipped his arms into the sleeves.

“I brought lunch, and a confession.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He picked the
hammer up. “I’m not going to alleviate you of your guilty conscience.”

She carried the basket and set it on the
post. He stopped his swing before he demolished the lunch. “I don’t need to
clear my conscience. I confess I made the lunch. It’s not as good as Cake’s. Train,
I have spent every day for weeks learning how to cook. Added to what Allison
taught me, I’m trying to be a good wife.” She dropped her hands from the
basket, waiting for him to look in.

He hesitated, frowning.

“Go on.”

He peered inside and took a chicken leg.

“Allison has taught me everything from
making soap to getting wheel grease out of your shirts. Believe me, I’m not
looking forward to the task.”

He took a bite of the chicken leg, chewed
while staring at her, his expression changing from questioning to surprise.

She handed him the canteen. “It’s fresh
lemonade.” She held them out for his inspection. “I put up with Jack and the
other men laughing at everything I burned. I took a bit of pleasure when they
ate the cookies I made with baking soda instead of flour.

“Train, the only thing heating up in the
shack is me at the stove. I swear it. Ask Cake if you don’t believe me. I asked
our friends not to say anything because I wanted to surprise you.”

Train put the canteen on top of the basket.
“Why?” His one simple word asked more than he could possibly imagine. She had
been asking herself the same question every day as she burned her fingers on
the stove or cut her thumb while trying to slice bacon thin enough to fry.

Her heart rate increased. Grabbing the post,
she tried to balance against the spinning in her head. “Because,” she said
quietly. “I can only show you how I feel. I can’t say the words.” Tears filled
her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Please understand,” she pleaded. “My
actions show you how I feel. I want to be your wife.” She couldn’t finish the rest
of what she wanted to say.

“And admit you have a problem, too, Train.
You tell me you love me, but you don’t show it. You don’t trust me, and worse,
you believe everyone else before you believe me.”

“I’m sorry, Marion.”

“Don’t apologize. Saying you’re sorry
doesn’t mean anything if you keep making the same mistake. Look at me. Do you
see your wife, or do you see a whore? I can’t be both.”

Train threaded his fingers with hers and
grabbed the picnic basket. “Yes you can.” They walked in silence for a minute.

“There used to be a little fishing shack
that had been converted into a one room house over there.” He pointed to a spot
not far from the bank of the lake. “It’s where I grew up. My dad was great with
cattle, but didn’t know a thing about providing for a wife and child. He was an
old man when he married my mother. Worked for the Bester’s his entire life.
When he decided to bring home a wife, TJ’s daddy, everyone called him Bud, told
him to raise his family on the ranch. My mother was already expecting me when
he moved her into the little house. He died a few years after I was born. I
don’t remember much about him.

“I do remember Sunday afternoons. My mother
ushered me out the door and told me to go find TJ. I was five, but I understood
it meant that Bud was on his way over.”

Marion
took the picnic basket from him as they settled under a tree and looked out
over the lake. The wind rippled the waters. “She was having an affair with TJ’s
father?”

Train nodded. “TJ was old enough to know
exactly what was going on. His father’s activities were no mystery. Bud liked
women. He loved his wife, but always had room for one more in his bed.”

“He saw Sandy when he was alive. She once
told me the apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it came to TJ,” Marion said.

“She was wrong. TJ never used women the way
his father did. I suppose that’s why TJ doesn’t like his business discussed.
He’s been hard on me the last couple of months. I’ve let myself become too emotional.”

“He didn’t want you to marry me?” She had
always been a fair judge of character. She couldn’t believe her intuition could
be that far off when it came to TJ.

“TJ has absolutely no reservations about
you. He’s worried about me.” He took a deep breath and put his hand over hers.
“TJ is my half brother. My mother was a whore in town. Joseph got her in the
family way and wanted to have a small part in raising his bastard, his
namesake.”

“If she was a whore how did she know he was
the one who fathered you?” She took a piece of chicken from the basket.

“Once Bud came into her life she was
exclusive to him. He planned it from the beginning. Set my dad up to take
responsibility. I guess that’s why he was never around. He knew I wasn’t his.
By then it was too late. He knew my mother and Joseph Bester were lovers.

“TJ felt sorry for me knowing we were
brothers, and that Bud would never openly acknowledge it. One day he heard his
mother crying and she confessed it all. Told him someday it would be up to him
to make it right with me.”

“That’s why TJ gave you this land.”

Train nodded.

“Why are you telling me this?” She wiped her
mouth on a napkin, but her eyes never wavered. They remained locked on Train’s.
Somehow, they both knew this was the crossroads of their marriage.

“Because my mother never lived with the man
she devoted her life to. She remained his mistress until she died. I guess Bud
was good to her if you call Sunday afternoons a relationship.” He took out his
tobacco pouch and rolled a cigarette. “I was ten when TJ told me we were
brothers. After that I pitied my mother.”

“And you pitied me?” She took the cigarette
from him. “It doesn’t work to pity someone who isn’t unhappy.”

“You’re right. I did go looking for a whore
to rescue.”

Her hand moved to cover his. “You found one.
I don’t want to leave. I want to be your wife. I was too stupid to know I was
unhappy.”

“I don’t want to change you.” He ran his
hand along the fabric of her dress. “This is what I want.”

“What about the good, little wife that cooks
and cleans?” She took his hand and moved it up her body.

“Only if you want.”

“I only know how to be a whore.”

“Good, when I come home for lunch I want to
find my wife partially dressed and waiting for me.” He slid his hand inside her
coat and under her dress, caressing her shoulder. “You’re trembling.” Now that
he wasn’t swinging a heavy hammer, the cold got to him, too. He shivered.
“Let’s go in.”

Marion
picked up the picnic basket. “I’m not going to stop going to the shack.”

“Then we’ll continue to fight about it.”
They stepped into the warm coziness of their little house.

“I’ll make you forgive me.” Her dress
dropped to the floor.

Chapter Sixteen

Train sat across from TJ in the shack.
“Think the storm will bring much snow?”

“Not this one, but we’ve seen the last warm
day until spring. Are things any warmer between you and Marion?”

“I told her everything.”

TJ glanced at him over the rim of his coffee
cup.

“She won’t say anything. She respects your
privacy.”

TJ took a sip and set the cup down.

“I told her that it was my decision not to
acknowledge my bloodline. I’m not your burden.”

“You never were. All you have to do is say
the word and you can carry the Bester name.”

Train shook his head. “I like things just as
they are.”

“And what about Jack, Charlie, and the rest
of the men? Are you going to be able to work along side men who’ve been with
your wife? I can’t have you throwing punches at everyone who looks at her.”

“Everyone would have a shiner. Jack and I
aren’t finished, but I’ll keep it civil between us.” He stopped speaking when
he saw the sheriff standing in the doorway.

Noticing the change in Train’s posture, TJ
followed his stare. “Sheriff.” He stood and took the sheriff’s extended hand
with his own. “What brings you out here?”

The sheriff shifted his weight from one foot
to the other. “I’ll need to speak with Mr. Spencer.” Train straightened his
shirt. “Looks like I’m interrupting.”

“Nothing that can’t be discussed later,” TJ
said, leading the way outside.

TJ made small talk with the sheriff, inquiring
on the continuing boom in town.

Finally, Train interrupted. “What can I do
for you, Sheriff?”

“I need to speak with Marion.” Sheriff Brady
adjusted his holster, assuring himself that his weapon was where he liked it.
“We had some trouble at the brothel.”

TJ leaned against the fence post resting one
foot on the bottom rail while he listened to Train speak to the sheriff. “My
wife doesn’t have any connection to the brothel. Sandy’s brother should have
taken possession of the building.”

“He did,” he said. “And then he burned it to
the ground.” The Sheriff glanced from Train to TJ. “We found a woman’s body in
the ashes.”

TJ’s head slumped between his shoulders.
“Who?”

“We’re hoping Marion can help us out.”

“I’ll ride out with you.” Marion was going
to need him.

* * *

Marion
watched the trio of riders approach. Something was wrong judging by the speed
of their horses. She went to the fire, threw on another log, and set the coffee
kettle on the stone slab to heat.

Train preceded the sheriff and TJ into the house.

“Sheriff,” she acknowledged him with only
the slightest hint of a smile. “What are you doing out here?” Her first thought
was that he had come to see if she had changed her mind about retiring. Sweat trickled
down the underside of her arm. Certainly, she was more secure today than a week
ago, but Train retained some skepticism about her commitment to the marriage
and her desire to be faithful. The way the sheriff was looking at her now was
bound to cause another round of quarreling.

TJ sat at the far side of the table and
balanced the chair on its back legs while he leaned against the wall.

“Who’s going to tell me why you’re here?”
She glanced from one man to the next looking for clues to the purpose of their
visit.

Sheriff Brady cleared his throat. “The Dusty
Rose is gone. Burned to the ground. Mr. Jensen was arrested for arson. He’s had
the pleasure of my hospitality in the jail while he’s waiting for the trial
judge to come from Helena.” He pulled something from his pocket and fidgeted with
it. “The snow fall is going to make the gutted building a mess. Town council
voted to clean it up at the city expense. Figure we can recoup the loss from
the sale of the property.”

The sheriff placed a necklace on the table
in front of Marion and watched for a sign of recognition.

Train leaned against the wall behind her
chair.

“Do you know who this belongs to?” the
sheriff asked.

“It was Sandy’s,” she said.

TJ’s chair legs hit the floor.

The men looked at each other. “Ms. Jensen?”
Sheriff Brady asked. “Impossible. Sandy’s buried in the town cemetery. Her
brother would have had to be insane to dig up her body to burn it with the
building.”

TJ leaned forward, staring at the necklace. “Have
you had any reports of grave robbing or cemetery desecration?”

“You don’t understand,” Marion said. “Cassie
kept it as a memento.” She looked at the sheriff. “Where did you find it?”

Train put his hand on her shoulder. She
tensed, fear pooling in her stomach.

With a sympathetic look, the sheriff
answered, “On the body we found in the ashes.” The words hung in the room like
an acrid odor.

“Cassie was still living in the brothel?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “She should have left weeks ago.”

“Maybe she didn’t have anywhere to go,” TJ
said.

“She ran away from home when she was fourteen.”
Marion remembered the day they had compared childhood memories. “Her daddy
moved her into his bed when her mama died. She’d stayed there a year before he
put a baby in her belly. When he beat her, she lost the baby. Then she ran. Her
greatest fear was that he took up with her little sister who was ten when she
left.” Marion closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“I guess she won’t worry anymore.” She stood
from the table, clutching the necklace in her hand. “Don’t worry about
notifying her family.” She went to the window and gazed at the lake. “Cassie
enjoyed the thought of her father wondering whether she was dead or alive.” She
took a deep breath.