Lawman in Disguise (17 page)

“Will it be hard for you to leave Simpson Creek, Daisy?” Thorn asked.

She thought about her answer for a moment. “In some ways,” she said, nodding. “There are such good people here. Folks who have helped me and stood by me in many ways.” Simpson Creek had been the scene of so much that had happened to her, good and bad—her childhood, her marriage, the birth of her son, the sense of shame she'd lived with for so long after she'd discovered what an awful man her first husband was and the renewal of her self-worth as the women of the Spinsters Club came alongside her to support her when her husband was arrested, jailed and later killed in prison.

“But there are good women in Mason, too, aren't there?” she asked. “Your sisters...”

He nodded. “We'll make sure to get into town regularly so you can meet them and the other ladies there, as well as go to church. I think the congregation has a Ladies Aid Society. My sisters always seemed to have a fine time at their events.”

“Thorn, I'll miss Simpson Creek, but I'm not worried about leaving. Anywhere I am with you will be home.”

“Then I think we should seal the deal with a kiss,” he said, and gathered her into his arms.

Chapter Sixteen

I
f it hadn't been for nighttime, Daisy would have been almost too busy to miss Thorn. Mr. Prendergast had been in such a dither when he learned that Tilly, the waitress he had treated with such favoritism, was not only awaiting trial in the Simpson Creek jail, but likely a lengthy prison sentence, as well. Pitying the man, Daisy hadn't had the heart to tell him that she would also be quitting as cook as soon as Thorn returned from Austin and their wedding took place. Instead, she called an emergency meeting of the Spinsters Club in the late afternoon, when the restaurant normally had little business, to see if any of the Spinsters could serve as a waitress, at least until other arrangements could be made.

To her great relief, Jane Jeffries, a single mother and widow who was the only one of the original Spinsters Club members who had not made a match, raised her hand to volunteer. Daisy could have hugged her out of sheer relief, but not wanting to overwhelm the woman, settled for merely thanking her and asking if she could start tomorrow.

“I... I'd like to,” Jane replied, looking like a deer that had just been startled from a mesquite thicket. “I've been needing to earn some money to supplement my late husband's soldier's pension, but what will I do with Calvin until school starts up in the fall again? He's such a lively boy...he's ten, you know, but I don't know how well he'd do on his own for several hours a day...”

If my Billy Joe can do it, Calvin can
, Daisy thought tartly, but before she could say so, she remembered how often being on his own had led Billy Joe into trouble and bad habits. He might not have fallen in with troublemaking friends or developed the admiration for outlaws that had so nearly been his undoing if she'd been able to stay at home and keep an eye on him, so she ought to be more sympathetic to Jane's plight. Perhaps she should volunteer Billy Joe to watch over Jane's son. His behavior was excellent now—surely he could be a role model for Jane's “lively” son.

Then she remembered his daily job at Ella's café. There wasn't enough work for both boys to do, and from what Daisy had seen of Jane Jeffries's son, labeling him as “lively” was a charitable description at best. It wasn't fair to expect Ella Bohannan and Billy Joe to keep Calvin Jeffries out of trouble.

The silence lengthened and Daisy was afraid Jane would have to bow out of her waitressing job before she had even begun it, but then Sarah Walker spoke up.

“Let me speak with my husband,” she said. “He's been talking about how he'd like to have an apprentice to help him with his doctoring. I used to do that, but with our growing family...” She laid a hand over her midsection and blushed.

“Sarah! Are you saying you're expecting again?” cried Milly with delight, and her sister nodded. “How wonderful!”

The meeting dispersed soon after that, with Sarah promising to speak to her husband about Calvin as soon as she got home, and then coming to tell Daisy what he'd said.

“I'm really thankful you think you can help me at the restaurant, Jane,” Daisy said as they put the dining room back in order.

Jane gave her a shy, genuine smile. “It'll be good to get out and be earning some money, Daisy. You're sure I can do this—keep it straight who ordered what, and carry the dishes without dropping them?”

Daisy laughed. “Of course you can. You'll do fine,” she said with an encouraging smile. “It'll be good to have you there.” She'd have to have a talk with her later about not letting Mr. Prendergast bully her, but she didn't want to frighten her away before she even started work.

“Yes...well, I'd better hurry on home,” Jane murmured, and rushed out of the restaurant as if she feared Calvin was burning their house down in her absence.

So she'd taken care of the waitress problem, assuming Dr. Walker consented to take on Calvin as his apprentice, Daisy thought as she returned to the hotel kitchen. Hopefully, finding someone to take over her job would be just as easy. Perhaps Mayor Gilmore's delightful Mexican cook, Flora, had a relative who wanted to be a hotel cook? Daisy would see that everything was taken care of and all the loose ends tied up...and then she'd be ready to start her new life with Thorn.

* * *

“Ma, when's Thorn coming home?” Billy Joe asked several days later, as she warmed up the leftovers that she'd brought home from work for their supper. “I miss him.” His face was wistful.

Daisy sighed. “So do I, son. And I'm not sure—he left a week ago, and it'd take him two days' riding at least to get to Austin, if all went well, and the same to return. But he had business to take care of in Austin that he thought might keep him in town for several days, and that's what we don't know—how long it will take to report to the headquarters of the State Police, and speak to the governor.”

“I bet he's being celebrated as a hero,” Billy Joe said, eyes alight. “Maybe they're even staging a parade in his honor!”

Daisy had to smile at her son's enthusiasm. It was more fun to think of Thorn being honored for his heroism than it was to follow her own self-doubts, picturing Thorn being offered such a choice job in the State Police that he couldn't turn it down, so he'd never return to Simpson Creek. Or that perhaps some lovely Austin girl had caught his eye, one who was younger and not burdened with a child already... Daisy was supposed to ride out to Milly's ranch tomorrow afternoon to discuss the dress her friend had agreed to make for her wedding. Perhaps she should wait until Thorn actually returned. She'd feel like a fool having spent good money on a gown if—

Stop it, Daisy
, she told herself. Thorn was a trustworthy man, and she could believe in his love for her and that he would do what he'd said he would do. There was no reason for her to feel so insecure. She was just tired.

She wondered what Thorn would wear if—no,
when
he married her. Except for when he'd been disguising himself as a preacher in a frock coat and fine trousers, she'd never seen him in anything but denim trousers and a shirt and sometimes a leather vest. If he dressed himself in fancy clothes for their wedding, would she feel as if she was marrying Reverend Dinwiddy instead of Thorn Dawson? But it didn't matter what clothes he turned up in for their wedding, she thought. He would look handsome in anything.

“Ma, I think when I grow up, I want to be a Texas Ranger, just like Thorn.”

Her heart gave a little leap of pride mingled with apprehension. It was an honorable ambition, and one Billy Joe might not have had if Thorn Dawson had not happened into their barn when he'd been wounded. But was she a strong enough mother to let her son court danger the way Thorn had?

That's many years from now
, she reminded herself.
Years in which he can—and likely will—change his mind about what he wants to be a dozen times over. And if this ambition lasts and he truly does follow this path, then, when the time comes, you won't want to cripple your son with your motherly fears.

“But Thorn isn't a Texas Ranger,” she reminded Billy Joe. “At least, he can't call himself that. The Reconstruction government dissolved the Texas Rangers because of the War Between the States.”

“I wouldn't want to be a state policeman,” her son said. “But Thorn says they'll be called Texas Rangers again someday soon. They just gotta get that carpetbag government out of Austin first.”

Daisy sighed. Texas had been under military control until just this year, when E. J. Davis, the carpetbag candidate, as Texans called him, had taken office. It would be a while till he and others like him could be voted out, she assumed. “It's all in God's hands, Billy Joe. Maybe you could add that to your nighttime prayers. And speaking of which—”

“I know, I know. It's bedtime. G'night, Ma.”

She would do well to follow her own advice, Daisy thought. Thorn's return, and their future, were both in God's hands, so she would pray about them when she went to bed tonight and waited to fall asleep. But she knew she wouldn't take an easy breath until she saw Thorn again.

* * *

Thorn's heart lifted as he reined Ace onto the road that led northwest out of Austin. He was going home—home to Simpson Creek, to Daisy and Billy Joe. It felt good to have a place that he thought of as home again. He hadn't had one for most of his adult years.

If he ever had to return to the state capital it would be too soon, he thought. He never again wanted to see Austin controlled by a puppet government. He could now say he'd met the governor. E. J. Davis was a genial enough sort, but it seemed like no great honor to have met him, since he hadn't won his seat in government through hard work or the goodwill of the people of Texas. Instead, he'd been handpicked to run for the office and guaranteed to win it by the federals who still truly controlled Texas.

Only now that Thorn had spent some time in Austin was he fully aware of how corrupt the State Police were, how completely a tool of the carpetbag government and the crooked head of the force, James Davidson. They'd done little to keep the peace except to suppress the Ku Klux Klan, and outlaws who were arrested were often “shot during an attempted escape” rather than brought to justice. It was easier to do it that way, and no officer had to fear any consequences for his actions when there was no real responsible oversight.

They'd certainly tried to keep Thorn on the force, with Captain Hepplewhite offering to make him a sergeant if he'd sign back on for an immediate placement, with a captaincy promised if he'd pledge to stay another year.

But all Thorn had to do was think of Daisy, and it was easy to politely decline.

They'd kept him in Austin a week, delaying his meeting with the governor deliberately, he thought, to give him time to reconsider. Meanwhile they'd treated him like royalty, accompanying him to the best restaurants, introducing him to the daughters of politicians and officers in the State Police hierarchy, to show Thorn he could have a rich, lavish life if he stayed. And all it would cost him would be his conscience and his self-respect. Despite all the glittering elegance, it just made him more eager to shake the dust of Austin off his feet and return to the simplicity and honesty of Simpson Creek. He smiled, remembering something he'd purchased that now traveled, neatly folded, in his saddlebags. He was certain Daisy would think he had made good use of his free time in Austin.

All things considered, he was glad to look down at his chest and no longer see the tin star of the State Police resting there. Someday, please God, the Texas Rangers would ride again, and a man could be proud to say he was one of them. But until then, Thorn could be proud of the accomplishments that he had in store—being a good husband to Daisy and a good father to Billy Joe.

* * *

It was nearly closing time and Daisy was eyeing the beef stew remaining in the pot on the stove. Business had been slow today, with few travelers passing through, few ranchers coming to town and most locals choosing to stay at home due to the heat. August in Texas was hot as election day in a hornet's nest, old Delbert Turner had said at noon, when he'd come in for some lemonade, so maybe beef stew hadn't been a good choice to make. But few customers meant that there would be more than enough of the stew to divide, sending half home with Jane, and taking the rest for herself and Billy Joe, in case her son had not brought leftovers home from Ella's café.

Asking Jane Jeffries to take the waitressing job had been a wise move on Daisy's part. Even Mr. Prendergast, who handed out compliments less often than cows gave whiskey, agreed. She was cheerful and efficient, and never flirted with the male customers as Tilly had. She was gaining in confidence, too, and had lost the frightened-deer look she'd had when Daisy first asked her to consider the job.

Jane came into the kitchen just then. “Do you think we dare put the Closed sign on the door yet? It'd be five minutes early, but the streets were empty last I looked...” Her face was wistful, and Daisy knew Jane was as tired as she was, and wanted to pick up her son from the doctor's home.

“Better not,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes. “Even though Mr. Prendergast's already been here for his supper, it'd be just like him to stroll downstairs again to check up on us. But watch the clock over the stove, and as soon as it's time—”

A faint tinkle at the door reached their ears just then, the sound of the little bell over the door that announced new customers.

In unison, the two women groaned.

“I shouldn't have said anything—I jinxed us,” Jane said ruefully.

“Now, now, you're not superstitious, are you?” Daisy retorted. “Better go welcome them. Tell them all we have left is beef stew, though.” At least she wouldn't have to take the remainder—whatever couldn't be carried home by her or Jane—down to the storage area in the cellar, she thought. She disliked going down there at night, even with the brightest of lanterns, after hearing that one of the victims of the infamous Comanche raid years ago had taken refuge down there and died of his wounds.
Now who was being superstitious?

She resisted an urge to peek out through the pass-through window to see how many customers she would need to heat up beef stew for. Jane would be back soon enough to tell her. Daisy just hoped it wouldn't be someone with an aversion to beef stew. She could offer them bacon and eggs, which could be prepared quickly, but that was as far as she was willing to go for someone inconsiderate enough to come right at closing time and expect a full selection.

Then she chided herself for her unwilling spirit. It might be a traveler, weary and hungry, who had traveled all day and had just reached Simpson Creek. What if another cook between here and Austin treated Thorn so coldly?

The swinging door creaked, and Jane was back. “It's just a man and a boy,” she announced, “but they want to see you first.” She was smiling, which Daisy found odd under the circumstances.