Ballad Beauty (3 page)

They began slowing. Jenny looked out the open window and saw a few scattered buildings. She spied a general store, a blacksmith, and a hotel as the stagecoach came to a halt.

“Apple Blossom!” called out the driver.

Jenny’s heart jumped. Apple Blossom was her destination. She stood with the others, throwing off the messy duster, clutching her reticule and sewing basket. Although her gloves were filthy, she was glad she wore them. Her palms were damp. She was horrified because ladies did not perspire.

Her sweating palms told her, as if she didn’t already know, just how nervous she was. Without realizing it, she began to hum
“Lanigan’s Ball”
under her breath.

The driver helped her down. Unsteady on her feet after being cramped in the stagecoach, she gripped a wheel with one hand as she motioned to which valise was hers. She turned as the driver went to fetch it. Her eyes skimmed over the few gathered around, greeting those as they left the confines of the stagecoach.

Slowly, one by one, the crowd melted away. Jenny found herself standing alone. The song died in her throat.

He wasn’t coming.

Somehow she’d known it all along. Despite his letter, the telegram, the money for tickets, the directions on which trains to take and where to transfer to the stage, she’d understood he wouldn’t meet her. Not that she blamed him. Who wanted to be saddled with a daughter he wouldn’t even recognize?

No, that was too harsh. He’d simply been delayed. He wouldn’t have gone to such trouble to get her to Texas if he didn’t really want them to be together. And he always had run late. She remembered the times her mother was fit to be tied because he’d been tardy. He claimed it was part of his Irish nature, and he’d usually been able to cajole her mother out of her foul mood with his charm and sunny smile.

What should she do? She thought of where she could wait for him. Or perhaps he’d left a message for her. Anything was possible with Samuel McShanahan.

Jenny glanced around the town of Apple Blossom. It didn’t seem like much of a town to her. Lying southwest of Fort Worth, it was flat, dusty, and she could swear it had never seen an apple blossom since before Noah’s Flood. If then.

The most likely place to wait seemed to be the hotel. She squared her shoulders, held her head high, and began walking back up the street.

CHAPTER 3

Noah watched Jenny McShanahan turn and walk up the street toward him, a determined look set on her lovely features. He’d been slumped against a hitching post for an hour, waiting for the two o’clock stage to arrive. He’d been wary, too, sure that Sam McShan would meet his only daughter when she arrived in Apple Blossom.

Thank God for his connections at the telegraph company. It had been his most solid lead up till now. Everything else sure dried up.

Just then she passed him, still walking down the middle of the street. He wondered where she was going. He also wondered if she realized she’d left her case.

Noah tipped his hat and called out to her. “Ma’am?”

She turned, a puzzled look on her face.

“You left your valise.” He pointed to the lone satchel sitting in the middle of the road.

It surprised him when the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “So I did.” She looked him up and down, and he almost blushed. “Thank you, sir. Perhaps I’ll retrieve it . . . and what’s left of my brain, as well.”

She started back toward the case. He moved quickly and stepped in front of her. “I’ll get it, ma’am.” He ambled along and picked it up and returned it to her.

“If you’ll tell me where you’re headed, I’ll make sure you and your bag get there.”

He watched her think this over, and then she nodded. “Thank you, sir. I’m headed to the local hotel.”

She took off in long strides despite her tight skirt. He studied her carefully from the back as he followed her to her destination. She was tall and thin, with the tiniest waist he’d ever seen. He was sure his hands could easily span it with room to spare. Her hat was slightly askew, revealing thick, honey blond hair twisted up in some womanly way.

But he longed for a glimpse from the front again. She had the most enticing eyes he’d ever seen on a woman, a striking moss green, with long, thick lashes surrounding them. A man could get lost in those eyes. Or her mouth. Her lips were a soft rose and looked good enough to lick.

Now where had that come from?

He smiled to himself and shook his head. She sure didn’t favor Sam in the least, except for being tall. Must take after her mama. He remembered Sam going on for hours about his dearest Suzannah from County Kerry. Even though she was dead, Sam talked about his wife as if she were alive. He seemed to have loved her a great deal.

He wondered how much this daughter resembled her dead mama. Why had it taken Sam so many years to send for such a looker? And why now? Of course, it had to be the big score he’d pulled off. The thought of it left a sour taste in Noah’s mouth. Although he had no lost love for Pete, he was still angry at both Sam and Pete for getting Pete killed. You think the two of them would’ve known better by now. After all, they had enough experience between them.

“Thank you again, sir.”

He looked up, confused for a moment. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that they’d arrived at the hotel without his realizing it.

“Any time, ma’am.” He gave her a sheepish smile. He took her valise to the desk and rang the bell. When a portly attendant appeared, he said, “This lady needs to speak with you.”

He turned, tipped his hat to her, and then strode away. Not too far, though. He needed to hear what Jenny McShanahan had to say.

Jenny calmed herself, not wanting to appear flustered. She’d already been foolish enough to leave her belongings in the middle of Apple Blossom’s main thoroughfare. She took a deep breath.

“Good afternoon, sir. I am Miss McShanahan, and I’ve just arrived–”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, on the two o’clock stage, that’s for sure. He said you’d be on it.” The desk clerk beamed at her through yellowed teeth.

Her heart skipped a beat. “You would be referring to my–”

“Your daddy, pure and simple. He left a letter for you a few days ago. Paid for you to have a room, too, that he did.”

She had been right. Obviously, his plans changed, but her papa took the time to prepare for her arrival. Maybe she was to stay here the night, and then they would travel to the ranch he always mentioned. It was possible he’d even purchased it by now, and that was what caused his delay.

The clerk reached under the counter and pulled out a letter. She saw her name scrawled on the envelope. “Mr. McShanahan left this for you. Said to open it immediately upon your arrival.”

She hesitated a moment.

“Go on, now. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your daddy.” The rotund clerk smiled encouragingly.

She tore open the envelope and took out a single sheaf of paper.

My dearest Jenny –

My plans have changed somewhat unexpectedly, and I have had to alter our arrangements. I have left Texas for a small town called Prairie Dell. It is in the state of Nevada, near the southern part. I fear it’s quite a ways for you to travel, but I so look forward to you joining me soon. My sister lives there, and she longs to meet you.

You can’t reach it by stage—it’s simply too small—and the train that way is unreliable and truly comes nowhere near the Dell. I’ve hired a guide, Slim Patterson, to take you there. I know this seems odd, but you’ll understand everything once we’ve had a chance to visit in person.

There’s money in the bank down the street to pay your escort. If you leave tomorrow, it will take about two and half weeks on horseback. Please hurry, sweetest Jenny. We have so much to catch up on, especially our goodnight songs.

Your loving Papa,

Samuel McShanahan

Noah watched different expressions flit across her face in rapid succession. He saw joy, surprise, anger, and bewilderment come and go as quickly as mosquito bites. He also wondered about the man that followed them to the hotel. He spotted him atop the stage that brought Jenny McShanahan to Apple Blossom. He knew the gentleman hadn’t gotten off at the same time as the other passengers who had disembarked.

So why was he here now? And were they both interested in the same lady for the same reason?

“Would you be so kind as to send my things up to my room?”

He turned his attention back to the desk.

“Yes, ma’am. Consider it done.”

Jenny thanked the clerk. “And one more thing. Do you know how I would go about locating a Mr. Slim Patterson?”

The desk clerk visibly blanched. “Mr. Patterson, you say?”

She smiled sweetly. “Yes. My father would like me to get in touch with Mr. Patterson. He is to escort me to Nevada.”

The man laughed uncomfortably, his giggle high and girlish for one so rotund. “I’m sorry, Miss McShanahan. It won’t be possible for you to speak with him.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Mr. Patterson died in a knife fight last night. Something about debts he owed was the story I heard from the barkeep.”

Noah watched Jenny grow still, her green eyes dominating her face, which drained of color. She gripped the counter a long moment in order to steady herself. She seemed to come to some decision as she focused on the clerk.

“Would you recommend taking the train to Nevada, sir?”

Laughter filled the small lobby. “From Apple Blossom?” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You could probably walk faster from here to there. No,” he shook his head, “overland route’s the only way to get there ‘fore Jesus returns.”

Jenny walked away, an odd look on her face. She moved toward the exit. Just before she reached the doorway, she looked over her shoulder.

Noah nearly dropped his teeth when she asked the clerk, “Would you please direct me to the nearest saloon?”

CHAPTER 4

Jenny walked quickly to the town’s lone saloon. She’d missed seeing it as the stagecoach entered Apple Blossom since it was beyond the point where she disembarked. She moved fast before she lost her courage. She figured a saloon would be the best place to start in trying to find a new guide to see her to Prairie Dell. Wherever that was.

She wondered what Miss Thompson would say about a former pupil and teacher entering the confines of a saloon. That brought a low chuckle, and she relaxed some. She wished for a moment that Miss Thompson
could
see her. It would probably bring on an immediate stroke, and then that sweet Miss Vines could take over running The Thompson School in the correct manner.

Oh, she must be tired and irritable for wishing strokes upon people, even if that included the likes of the horrible Miss Thompson. She was almost glad this Prairie Dell couldn’t be reached by stage. Anything had to be better on her bottom than what she’d suffered through the last two days.

As she reached the entrance to the saloon, she looked around. Not that she knew anyone in Apple Blossom, but she was a respectable young lady. She hated for anyone, even the residents of this pitiful excuse for a town, to receive the wrong impression of her—despite the fact she was now a forthright Western woman.

Mustering her courage, she pushed open the door and entered. At once, her vision went dark. No, that was just the inside of the saloon. What a contrast to the bright day outside.

She glanced around as the room fell eerily silent. It was full of nothing but men—men smoking, men drinking, even men with girls sitting on their laps.

She stifled the noise that threatened to escape from her lips. These weren’t just any girls. They were like the ones that came to Dr. Randolph’s free clinic, which he operated on the weekends. She remembered the hardened, painted faces of some of the women that came to him for help. Her heart went out to them. To find it necessary to lower oneself to such a task was beyond her comprehension.

The hush continued. Those present began to shift uncomfortably. Jenny walked toward the startled piano player. His hands hovered above the keyboard.

“You may continue to play, sir. I’m sorry to have interrupted you. I won’t be but a minute.”

He flashed a toothy grin at her. “Then I won’t be playing for the next minute, ma’am. If I start banging away on the ivories and these boys miss why you’ve come in, I might as well go and beat myself black and blue.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. I see. Well, then, thank you.” She made her way to the bar where a beefy man in a stained apron leaned an elbow on the counter.

“What’ll it be, ma’am?”

She realized he thought she wanted to purchase a drink. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, sir. I don’t wish to partake of any alcohol. I simply have need of some information. I’m told a barkeep is the best informed man in town.”

The bartender sized her up. “Who told you that?”

Her face flamed. “You see, well . . .” She paused and then blurted out, “I read it in my dime novels.”

Hearty laughter erupted throughout the room. She wished she could sink into the floor. Instead, she lifted her head and put on her best schoolmistress face as she gazed at the bar’s patrons. The laughter subsided immediately.

“Now as to why I’m here, sir, I am in need of a guide.” She looked across the room. “Does anyone here have experience in acting as a trail guide? I need to reach Nevada as quickly as possible.”

No one dared laugh again, although she saw many of the men wanted to do so. Slowly, the majority turned back to their drinks, their cards, and their cigars. Jenny had no takers.

Except one.

A scrawny man in bad need of a haircut approached her. He smelled awful. She supposed by his gait that he was semi-inebriated.

“Snake Burton. At your service, ma’am.” He doffed a worn-out hat to her.

She took in his pitiful appearance. She wasn’t sure if he could make it back across the room to his seat, much less escort her clear to Nevada.

“I know I look poorly, but I’ve jes’ fallen on some hard times is all. This little trip could hep me get back on my feet.” He looked at her pleadingly. “I’d work real cheap.”

She’d always had a soft heart. Her first, poor impression of Mr. Burton melted away. No one else offered her any assistance. If she were to reach Prairie Dell before the twentieth century began, it looked as if she’d have to take her chances with Snake Burton.

“Very well, Mr. Burton. You’re hired.” She tried to quell her doubts as to his suitability for their venture, but since no one present had stepped up to accommodate her, she would make the best of the situation. “I would like to leave early tomorrow unless you have any previous commitments.”

Snake shook his head. “I’m looser ‘n a goose, ma’am. We can leave tomorry . . . ‘bout nine o’clock.”

“Then it’s settled. I will go to the general store and see about supplies for our foray, sir. Do you have a horse?”

He looked appalled that she would even ask such a question. “‘Course I do. It’s Texas, ain’t it?” He narrowed his eyes and studied her a moment.

“What I could use is a little stake afore we set out.”

She understood at once. Mr. Burton possibly had a few financial matters to settle before undertaking such a long trip. She mentioned a figure to him for acting as her guide. His face lit up with pleasure. She then reached into her reticule and handed him five dollars in advance. She hoped he might consider a haircut and bath before they began their journey.

“Then we are to meet tomorrow morning at nine in front of the hotel, sir?”

Snake nodded. “We’ll get to Nevada come hell or high water. Begin’ your pardon, ma’am.”

She held out her gloved hand to Snake Burton. As he shook it, Jenny noticed the tall cowboy who’d helped her with her luggage earlier. Had he followed her from the hotel?

Jenny McShanahan fascinated Noah. His first impression of her had been false. She wasn’t an empty-headed woman who traipsed off without her valise in a strange town. She was simply bats in the belfry crazy. Nothing else could account for her behavior during the last ten minutes. What decent woman entered a saloon, much less tried to employ a guide from its rough crew of customers? If even one man in the bar thought she was actually serious about him taking her to Nevada, she would have had a line out the door clear to the next county.

As it was, old Snake Burton had already rooked her out of good money, five dollars from the looks of it. That was hard cash that Miss McShanahan would never see again. Probably Snake wouldn’t, either. He’d have it spent in a New York minute, and Noah suspected exactly where it would wind up.

She left the saloon. He noticed every man’s eye in the place followed her. His included. She had a certain sway in her walk that was mighty appealing. Too bad she was a good girl. He would have liked to get to know her better, but he was never going to get married. That’s what all the nice ladies wanted—a ring on their finger—and he wasn’t about to place one there. Not on Jenny McShanahan’s hand or any other woman’s.

He’d watched the sham of his parents’ marriage for too many years. He saw the heartbreak Pete brought into his wife’s life. Sarah Webster had to work harder than she should have, and she’d aged well before her time. She’d fallen in love with a man who was a thief, right there in the lobby of a St. Louis theater, as Pete cased the patrons in attendance and the jewels they wore.

Their whirlwind courtship and elopement, as well as her own daddy’s disowning her, might be the stuff fairy tales were made of, but their love died pretty much before it ever had a chance to grow—all thanks to Pete’s life of crime. Now his mama was a bitter woman. Of course, she’d given Noah all the love in the world and taught him right from wrong. She’d raised him, Mark, and Elizabeth the best she could. Her children gave her a way to make amends for the tragic mistake of marrying Pete Webster.

But she never let any of them forget her opinion of marriage. Knowing how down she was on the institution, he’d sworn to her that he’d never marry. He didn’t want to disappoint a woman like his daddy had his mama. He was always worried that his own bad blood would surface. He refused to make anyone, least of all a wife, miserable. So he’d chosen never to marry. He didn’t feel he was good enough—at least for a nice, decent woman.

Now loving was another matter. He did like his loving, sweet and slow, but it was always with a soiled dove or even a widow woman now and then. And just as his mama taught him, he was impeccably polite—even to a soiled dove. He made sure he pleasured them as much as they did him. Between that and Rangering, his life had been all right. He was proud he’d made a different life than his daddy, one that he could be proud of. A Ranger’s reputation preceded him wherever he went. That meant everything to him.

Yet Rangering was about to be a thing of the past if he didn’t catch up with Miss Jenny McShanahan. He’d been bull-headed and gone out on a limb with the chief commander at HQ, insisting he go after Sam alone. This young woman was his only lead.

Noah slid from his seat and left the bar, determined to bring Sam McShan to justice. It would prove that Pete’s bad blood didn’t taint him. Besides, if he didn’t find Sam, he might as well mail in his resignation. He’d promised to bring in both Sam and the loot. A Ranger always kept his promise.

He walked along the wide street, the wind kicking swirls of dust around him. He knew she headed over to the general store. Lord, she’d announced everything to anyone listening. Thank goodness no one but him had any notion of following her.

He moseyed into the store and watched from a distance as she did her business, asking this and that about what she’d need out on the trail. She explained her funds were across the street, deposited at the bank, and the store owner was only too willing to accommodate her request for supplies.

For being a tenderfoot, she made some wise selections. She didn’t pinch pennies, but she proved frugal nonetheless. She examined each item carefully before making her decision. Maybe it was those dime novels she claimed to read, but she did seem to know a fair amount about what she was doing.

A shadow crossed on the opposite side of the store. He caught a quick glance of the stranger from the stage. If this fellow didn’t back off soon, he and Noah Daniel Webster would dance in a dark alley real soon.

He turned sideways to let Jenny pass as she left the general store. “Ma’am,” he said and tipped his hat to her. God, he loved those green eyes.

Jenny walked rapidly from the bank, bothered by the fact that the blue-eyed stranger crossed her path yet again. She chose to dismiss him from her mind as she conducted her short business and then made her way to the far end of the street. She needed a horse if she were to reach Prairie Dell, and the bank manager had instructed her to see Whitey.

She recognized him the minute her eyes fell on him. He had the whitest-blond hair of anyone she’d ever seen. He scurried over to her.

“Good day, sir.”

“Good day to you, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

Jenny explained that she’d need a horse for a long journey across the open country.

Whitey frowned at her, his head cocked to one side. “And how much riding experience do you have, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

She hoped her blush wouldn’t give her away. “More than most,” she said succinctly.

Actually, she’d never been on a horse at all, but she’d probably read every book ever written contained in the Boston Public Library. She’d been so eager to learn all she could about the West so she’d be prepared when her father sent for her. She devoured volume after volume on the land, the people, the Indian dangers, the gunfighters, the railroads, and even the horses. She probably knew more about horses than anyone except a horse breeder. Year after year she’d added to her knowledge. By this point, she was a walking encyclopedia of all things familiar in the West.

And more importantly, she had inhaled every word in
Milton Mulholland’s Guidebook to the American West
. She knew exactly what Mr. Mulholland would recommend in this particular situation.

“I’d like one with a tough mouth and a gentle nature,” she added. “And I’ll need a saddle, as well. Western. Not English.”

Whitey nodded, seemingly satisfied by her confident answers. He took her to his pen and pointed out the attributes of a few likely candidates.

“This one’ll have the stamina for a trip like you’re talking about. Pretty even-tempered. That sorrel over there has a tendency to nip you, but it’s more like love bites, if’n you know what I mean.”

“Hmm,” she said without wanting to commit, having no idea what he meant. Then a lonely horse in the far corner caught her eye. “What about that one?” She pointed to the thin black horse with white socks.

“You mean the black?” Whitey snorted. “You don’t want that one. Comet’s nothing but trouble.”

She looked at the horse again, curiosity burning. “Why do you say that?”

The horse seller shrugged. “He don’t much like people. Was mistreated ‘fore I took him in. Probably shouldn’t have, but I wouldn’t have seen a dime of what Stanton owed me otherwise. He’s also way too skinny. He’d never make a long trip like you’re planning.”

She didn’t care about Whitey’s opinion. This horse had a look in his eye that already won her over. She knew Nevada was a good distance from Texas. She decided she’d only go as far as this horse would take her.

“I’ll take him.”

“But–”