"She's a good-lookin' woman, ain't she?"
Jenkins turned toward the middle-aged woman in the bright red dress standing beside him. He leered purposefully. "She sure is. She gave me the eye out on the street, and then she turned in here. I
ain't never
had a clearer invitation."
"You're dreamin', fella." The woman laughed,
then
extended her hand. "My name's Sally. I own this place, and I'm tellin' you that whatever you think you saw… you didn't. That lady you just saw walkin' up them steps is a
lady
. And she's married."
"Married, huh?" Jenkins shook his head.
"You sure?"
"Couldn't be no
more sure
. Her husband's the Reverend Reed Farrell, so don't go gettin' any ideas."
"A preacher!
She
don't
look like no preacher's wife to me!"
"And that preacher don't look like
no
preacher, either, so I guess that makes them a good pair. She's been takin' real good care of him, too."
"Takin' care of him?"
"He's sick. Doc Carr's been visitin' real regular."
"That right?"
"It took three men to get him up the stairs the first night they came. Good thing Room
One
was empty, too. As big as he is, I don't think them men could've carried him a step farther."
"So, you think I'd be wastin' my time if I introduced myself to the lady…"
"Let me tell you somethin'." Sally's expression abruptly sobered. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay as far away from that lady as you can, 'cause I'm tellin' you preacher or not there's somethin' about the look in that man's eyes that says, 'Don't mess with me'."
"That right?"
"That's right."
"What did you say his name was?"
"Reverend Reed Farrell."
"I think I saw him once. He's a short fella, with black hair… kinda fat."
"Hell, no!"
Sally gave a sharp laugh. "That parson's a big fella with light hair and blue eyes as cold as ice… and from what I could see, there ain't an ounce of fat on him."
"Must have the wrong man."
Jenkins tipped his hat. "Thanks for the advice, ma'am."
Smiling, Jenkins turned toward the door. His smile dropped away as he stepped out onto the boardwalk and cursed under his breath. He had the right man, all right, but something was wrong.
He didn't like this at all.
Chastity knocked on the hotel room door. She waited with her hand on the knob for a response from within, unconsciously grimacing at the sound of a train whistle disappearing into the distance. It had happened again. She had fallen another day behind on her journey to Caldwell. An hour ago she had steadfastly determined to put the past two days behind her, only to again put that resolution aside for a man she hardly knew.
Chastity reviewed her conversation with the Reverend Reed Farrell a few minutes earlier. She remembered that those incredibly direct blue eyes were no longer cold when she approached his bed. An indefinable emotion had flickered in them, sending a peculiar tremor down her spine. When weakness temporarily overcame him, something inside her had reached out to him, and she had been lost.
Still waiting for a response to her knock, Chastity took a nervous breath. Surely he wouldn't have tried to get up without help in her absence. Surely he realized the risk in doing so.
Chastity knocked more sharply. Her heart began a new pounding when there was no reply, and she pushed the door open to see Reed lying motionless in bed. Beside him in an instant, she touched her hand to his forehead, only to gasp aloud when his eyes snapped open and his hand grabbed her wrist. True menace lingered in his tone as he grated, "I told you not to come at me when I'm sleeping."
"I didn't come at you! I knocked twice. When you didn't answer, I thought" Halting abruptly, annoyed at herself for her defensive tone, she continued, "Never mind what I thought. Just let go of me."
Releasing her abruptly, making a visible effort to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, Reed muttered softly, "I'm sorry. I must've fallen asleep. You startled me." He did not wait for her response as he pressed, "What did you find out at the telegraph office?"
Chastity's resentment lingered.
"Nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly that. I did what you said. I asked if there were any messages for Reverend Reed Farrell, and the clerk said no one came in asking for you."
"You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! It wasn't that difficult, you know. I made certain to"
The sound of soft shuffling in the hallway outside the door did not prepare Chastity for Reed's sudden spring to a seated position, or for the force with which he swung out his arm and thrust her aside, hissing, "Get back!"
Chastity's spontaneous protest froze on her lips when the door snapped open, revealing a man standing with gun drawn. She swallowed convulsively as he said, "I'm lookin' for Reed Farrell."
Reed's response was equally harsh. "What do you want with him?"
The stranger's eyes narrowed. "You're Farrell, ain't you?" He paused. "Did you send this woman lookin' for me?"
"I did if your name is Ed Jenkins."
"We were supposed to meet two days ago."
"I wasn't in shape to do anything until today."
The gunman glanced at Chastity. "Who's she?"
"A messenger… that's all." Reed turned toward Chastity. "Mr. Jenkins wants to talk to me privately."
Chastity did not move.
"Chastity…"
Chastity turned incredulously toward him. "You want me to leave you alone with him?"
"Mr. Jenkins and I have business to discuss."
"But he has a gun!"
"He's just being cautious."
"But what if he"
"Just go."
"No, you don't." Jenkins interrupted tightly. "She's not goin'
nowhere
!"
"If you don't let her go, we have nothing to talk about!"
Chastity watched Jenkins's reaction to Reed's sharp declaration. She saw his small eyes dart cautiously between them before he slowly lowered his gun. And she saw the satisfaction that registered in Reed's expression as he instructed, "You can leave, Chastity. Don't worry. Mr. Jenkins and I will be done here soon."
Aware that she was shaking, Chastity pulled the door closed behind her. She paused uncertainly, noting the sound of soft conversation as soon as the door clicked shut. Reassured when the tone was free of menace, she started down the hallway. Her ignorance about conditions in the West amazed her. She had not realized resentment against the Indians ran so high that a government agent was forced into a clandestine meeting with a man who wanted to help them. As for Mr. Jenkins's drawn gun…
Barbaric, that's what the "Wild West" is…
Perhaps there was more truth to Aunt Penelope's words than she had realized.
But another truth was that Reed had shown no trace of fear when he faced Mr. Jenkins's gun. Somehow she hadn't expected that he would.
Puzzled at that thought, Chastity continued on down the stairs.
Reed eyed Ed Jenkins coldly. The fellow looked to be in his mid-forties. He was short and wiry, with the leathery, lined skin and callused hands of a cowman who had spent long years on the range. There was a look about him of unyielding resolution that he recognized. He had worn that same expression before the hatred inside him had turned to ice. He knew there was no compromise with the feelings behind that look.
Aware of his physical limitations as he battled another abrupt bout of weakness, Reed asked, "You wired that Morgan and his
gang were
seen around Sedalia. What I want to know is why you didn't go after him yourself if you're lookin' to get the reward or why you got in touch with me instead of the law."
Jenkins gave a harsh laugh.
"The law?
You know the law ain't been able to touch Morgan. They're so caught up in their rules and regulations that he don't have
no
trouble at all keepin' a step ahead of them."
"He didn't keep a step ahead of you."
Jenkins's expression hardened. "No, he didn't. But I don't fool myself that I'd be able to take on Morgan and his gang. He's smart and he's fast and I ain't
no
gunfighter. It ain't my life I'm carin' about, but I'll be damned if I'll take the chance of him gettin' away again."
"I'm not a gunfighter, either."
"The hell you ain't!"
"I said… I'm not a gunfighter."
Jenkins regarded him for a cautious moment. "No, maybe you ain't, but people talk. They say you got a personal grudge against men like Morgan. And they say a lot more, too."
"Like what?"
"They say you don't give up when you're after somebody… and that you've been after Morgan for a long time. And they say you ain't afraid of nothin'."
His patience stretching thin when his leg began a new throbbing, Reed asked, "What are you looking to get out of this?"
"Morgan's hide nailed to the wall."
"Oh, that's all?"
Reed's sarcasm was not lost on the wiry cowman. "Yeah, that's all!" he snapped.
"Why?"
"That's my business."
"No, it isn't. It's mine."
"I had a son, once," Jenkins said, his lean face tight, "and now I ain't got a son no more. I've got Morgan to thank for that. I want to see him pay."
Jenkins's words twisted tightly in Reed's gut. "Where's Morgan now?"
"He left town. I couldn't follow him because I was waitin' for you, but I know where he went. He's got a hideout in Indian Territory where the law ain't got
no
authority. He's keepin' a herd he rustled there, and he's takin' his sweet time puttin' his brand on it. Hell, he's so cocky, he ain't even botherin' to look behind him.''
Reaching into his pocket, Jenkins withdrew a paper. He spread it out on the bed beside Reed, a tight smile on his face. "I drew you a map. You won't have
no
trouble findin' him." He paused. "There's only one thing I'm askin' from you."
Reed looked up at him sharply.
"Just a wire, tellin' me you got him, is all I want. I wrote where you can send it on the back of the map."
The look in Jenkins's eyes tightened the knot within Reed.
Jenkins's son… and Jenny.
"All right."
Reed took a shaky breath. "Get out of here and don't come back. I don't need anybody getting suspicious. I'll be on my feet in a few days. It won't take me too long after that, one way or another."
Jenkins straightened up slowly. Reed saw the telltale tic in his cheek before Jenkins extended his hand toward him. "Much obliged, Farrell."
Folding up the map as Jenkins left the
room,
Reed shoved it under his pillow. His hand grazed the spectacles lying there when he did, and he frowned. So, Morgan was in Indian Territory… where a parson and his wife were expected at the mission. It couldn't have worked out better. And if a parson and his wife were what they were expecting, that was what they'd get.
Reed leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes.
«» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «»
"The news isn't good."
Reed spoke softly. Chastity waited for him to continue, her gaze intent on his face. She had been searching again for her spectacles on the street when Edward Jenkins came out of the hotel and started toward the livery stable. Somehow anxious, she had headed directly back toward the hotel. One look at Reed and it was obvious that things hadn't gone well.
Reed's clear blue eyes were troubled as he continued, "Jenkins said there's a problem at the mission."
"A problem?"
"The children…" Reed paused, frowning as he began again, "Reverend Stiles started a school at the mission. He brought a teacher in who was good with the Indian children. Something happened to
he
rJenkins wasn't sure what but she left."
Reed paused, his gaze narrowing. "The mission's in real trouble. When Reverend Stiles died, the Indians felt abandoned. They turned to the teacher for guidance and she was able to handle things for a while, but with her gone, Reverend Stiles's converts began leaving the mission."
"But… but now that you're on the way…"
"They were promised more than a year ago that a new preacher and his wife were on the way. In the meantime, they lost their teacher, too. Jenkins said that the Indians think that no one cares about them or their children anymore. He says the only thing for me to do if I want to get them back is to go out to the villages, one by one, and talk to them. The only trouble is that in the meantime I'll probably lose more of the converts who still bring their children to the mission."
"Can't you go to the mission and explain the
situation tell
them that you'll come back as soon as you can and school will be resumed?"
"They've been given so many promises that haven't been kept. Jenkins said the only way to keep the Indians who still come to the mission would be to start the school again immediately."
"Well, you can't do both!"
"I know."
"Didn't anyone realize that when you were sent here?"
"The situation wasn't clear. The wife of the preacher they originally intended to send was a good teacher who could've handled the children while her husband was out at the villages, but she got sick and they weren't able to come. I was sent instead."
"Oh…"
Reed frowned. "No one expected the complications that held me up, including me. Now it looks like I'll be arriving to do too little, too late."
"You mustn't feel that way."
"The worst part of it all is that Jenkins said the government was looking into financing part of the school, but if the Indians appear to be losing interest, that'll
probably
be the end of it."
"Isn't there someone you can wire to have them send out a teacher temporarily at least until you get back from the villages and can take over the school yourself?"
"I suppose they would send someone eventually, but I couldn't make Jenkins any promises."
"But"
"It's the children that bother me most…" Reed's gaze flickered. "I hate to lose them."
Reed's tone touched Chastity's heart. His eyes, so blue and direct, were filled with resolution. His face, so pale and drawn, reflected true intensity. She sensed that intensity ran deeper than he would admit. It tugged at her relentlessly in ways she could not quite comprehend, and there was a quiver in her voice as she responded, "Surely there's someone who can help. Perhaps Sally"
Reed's brows immediately furrowed. "I don't think Sally's the right person."
Chastity stiffened defensively. "Sally's a nice woman. She worked with Reverend Stiles."
"She didn't teach school. I don't think she'd be able to handle it."
"Maybe she knows someone who could take the position."
"I can't afford to let the situation at the mission become general knowledge."
"You can't do this alone. You need help."
"I'll manage."
"I wish I could help you."
"I understand. You're on your way to Caldwell."
"It's important for me to get there. I've already sent a wire. I'm expected."
"Don't worry about it. I'll be on my feet in another day or so."
Chastity scrutinized Reed intently, her stomach tightening. The intensity in his gaze remained. He would do what he must… but she also saw the weariness behind his eyes.
"I can see you're committed to this."
"I'm committed, all right."
"You're going to do it with or without help."
It wasn't necessary for him to reply.
"I'll help if I can." The words emerged from Chastity's lips as if of their own accord. They reverberated in her mind even as she hastened to add, "But only for a few weeksuntil you or someone else can take over the school."
She thought she saw a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. "That's very generous of you. I know you're worried about the effect this might have on your reputation."
Her reputation?
A slow flush heated Chastity's skin. Somehow she had forgotten.
"Everyone in Sedalia thinks you're my wife. That misunderstanding hasn't hurt anybody, and nobody has to know anything different. As a matter of fact, it would probably make things easier all the way around."
Chastity nodded.
"As for Sally, her intentions are good, but she's talkative. I don't think it would be smart to tell her too much."
Right.
"Thank you, Chastity."
Thank you?
Would wonders never cease?
"You're welcome, Reverend."
The weariness behind Reed's eyes broadened. "I think it would be better if you call me Reed."
Exhaustion once again claiming him, Reed slid down against the pillow before she could reply. He mumbled, "I'm going to rest for a while."
He was sleeping within minutes.
Chastity backed away from the bed slowly. Her legs bumped the chair behind her and she sat down abruptly. Clasping her locket in her fist, she stared at the confounding man lying in the bed a few feet away. An hour earlier, she had been ready to board the train and turn her back on him without another thought, and now she had committed herself to traveling with him into Indian Territory. She had also agreed to teach school at an Indian mission when the truth was that she had never even
seen
a real Indian!
"Chastity needs to learn not to be ruled by her emotions! She must learn to consider the consequences before she acts!"
"Oh, pooh, Penelope!
Chastity is an intelligent woman and she'll make intelligent decisions. I have complete faith in her!"
Was she?
Did she?
Aunt Penelope's and Aunt Harriet's voices warred in her mind, as the answers continued to elude her.
"Well, this is a pleasant domestic scene."
Reed awoke with a start to see Dr. Carr smiling down at him. He glanced toward the window to see that the light of day had faded, then at the chair in the corner of the room where Chastity hurriedly rose to her feet. They had both been sleeping. It frustrated him that someone had again been able to enter the room and approach the bed without his awakening. The full extent of his vulnerability had never been clearer.
"That frown looks familiar." Dr. Carr touched Reed's forehead lightly. "No fever tonight. How's the pain?"
Still annoyed with
himself
, Reed said, "I'm all right."
"That tone sounds familiar, too." Dr. Carr turned toward Chastity as she approached the bed. "Has this fellow been behaving himself while I was gone?"
She nodded.
"Sally says you haven't been out of this room for supper, so she's bringing up a tray for both of you in a few minutes."
Chastity protested, "Oh, she doesn't have to do that."
"She doesn't have to do it, but she's pleased to help a nice young couple like you."
Chastity's eyes darted toward him, guilt flashing bright and clear in her gaze. Annoyed, Reed was grateful that Dr. Carr was not looking her way. As guileless and naive as Chastity was, it was a mystery to him how she had made it this far without a major disaster befalling her.
The sudden thought occurred to him that Chastity's journey with him into Indian Territory was a disaster in the making, but Reed hardened himself against the thought. It was a matter of priorities, and he had set his. "Now, let's take a look at that leg."