Under a Falling Star (7 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W
hen a mighty blast rent the air, Susanna dropped the bundle of soiled laundry she held in her arms. Fear and confusion reverberated around her chest. Squatting quickly, she gathered up the pile of sheets and towels and glanced around Main Street at the other frightened people.

Heading straight for Albert’s office, she hurried through the door to find Thom behind Albert’s desk. “What on earth was that? And where is Albert?”

Looking up, Thom smiled. “Morning, Susanna.” He stood and came around the desk, resting a hip on top. He looked as worn out as the rest of them were. “He’s blasting a hole in a reinforced train car. If all goes as planned, they’ll be here in fifteen minutes or so.”

“What?” She thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Why? That sounds dangerous.”

He stifled a yawn. “It is, I guess. And since you’ll find out the reason soon enough, I’ll go ahead and tell you—being you’re a close friend of the sheriff’s.”

Seemed everyone thought they knew where she stood with Albert, except her.

“Just what is it I’m not supposed to know?”

Thom filled her in, but when she left the sheriff’s office, she was more concerned than ever. A million dollars was an unthinkable amount of money. Enticing to anyone. It would put Albert in danger, as well as Frank Lloyd, the bank owner. And Dalton. He’d always been kind to her back home—she wouldn’t want to see him come to any harm.

Susanna crossed Main Street, her mind a whirlwind. She passed people without stopping to talk, anxious to rid herself of the burden she carried, and find out if Albert was all right.

Entering the long, narrow laundry house, she tapped the silver bell and waited. The clammy air felt good on her face. The familiar scents of incense and scorched linen were comforting after the last day and a half of uncertainties. A small sign on the back wall read
WASHING & IRONING
in big, bold print. Sounds in the back attested that Tap Ling, and his pretty wife, Bao, were hard at work as usual. Mr. Ling hurried out, his long black braid swinging from side to side beneath a small round cap.

When he saw her, a large grin split his face. “Miss Robin-
son
,” he said with a polite bow over his hands. “Welcome.” He drew a handkerchief from the pocket of his loose-fitting black pants and wiped his shiny forehead.

It was always a mystery to Susanna how neat and tidy Mr. Ling stayed through hours of hard, backbreaking labor. She couldn’t get to work early enough to beat him, and he was usually there when she left the restaurant. Even if she came into town late at night, there would be a light burning.

“Hello, Mr. Ling,” she replied. “I have some washing to drop off for Dr. Thorn.”

Mr. Ling began sorting through the heap of white sheets and towels she’d set on his long wooden counter.

She looked toward the adjoining door. “Is Bao working? I’d like to say hello.”

He looked up, his black eyes bright with fondness. “Took Lan home to eat.” He smiled and rubbed his stomach. “That little grasshopper eats her weight in noodles.”

“How is my darling little Lan? Still working hard on her letters? When she’s through with the book I brought by, let me know, and I’ll get you another.”

The couple had the most darling little girl. She’d easily wrapped Susanna around her pinky finger from the moment she’d smiled up into her face. Her name meant “orchid,” and the child was just as pretty as a flower, if not prettier.

Mr. Ling blinked several times, his face clouding with emotion. “Thank you. Means much that Lan learns English. Thank you—”

Susanna stopped his gratitude with a smile of her own. “It’s no problem in the slightest, and I’m happy to do it. Next year when she’s ready for school, the learning will be easy for her. And that makes it fun.”

He looked uncertain.

“Now, when can I pick these up for Dr. Thorn?” There. They were back to surer footing.

“Monday. Day after to-
morrow
.”

“Oh, I’m sure we won’t need them that soon since several women have loaned us a good supply, and you have lots to do already by the look of things.” There was a pile of laundry stacked on the end of the counter. “I’ll be by Tuesday afternoon.”

A relieved smile appeared on his face. “Thank you.” He gave another small bow and she bid him farewell.

Back outside, the boardwalk was almost as cluttered as her mind. Between worries over supplies for the restaurant, what Julia was going to do now that her aunt Biddy was dead, and whether Albert was in danger—
and now Dalton
—she almost missed the man and woman walking toward her. The boy in the man’s arms fit the description Dalton had mentioned. A bandage was wrapped around his head.

They were about to pass when Susanna said, “Excuse me.” The woman wore a blue homespun dress, and the man’s worn jacket looked several years old.

“Yes?” The man touched the brim of his hat. “Can I be of assistance?”

“I hope so,” Susanna replied. “I’m helping out in the infirmary where most of the injured passengers were taken right after the accident. A man, Mr. Babcock, came asking around yesterday about a young boy he’d pulled from under a table in the dining car, and bandaged a cut on his head. His description fits that of your child. He was concerned, and wanted to make sure the boy had been reunited with his parents. Do you think he was talking about your son?”

The woman’s face brightened. “Yes,” she said, her tone heavy with appreciation. Her hand came up and smoothed the boy’s sleeve, her hand lingering. “Terrence told us what happened, but didn’t know the name of the man who had helped. We’re so grateful, and we’d like a chance to thank him in person.”

Susanna was sure it was not out of need of acknowledgment that Dalton had inquired, but she’d be happy to bring the four of them together, if that was what the woman wanted as well.

“Yes, that’s exactly right,” the man added. “We can’t tell you how frightened we were to find Terrence missing right before the crash. We’d begun searching, and then the train hit, and everything was crazy. Seems he got hungry, snuck out of his seat, and went in search of food. We were so relieved when we found him in a wagon outside the doctor’s office. Please, can you tell us were to find this fellow?”

“He’s going to check back with me sometime soon. Tell me where you’re staying and he will look you up.”

During the conversation, Terrence had lost a bit of his shyness. He squirmed and his father set him on his feet but kept a tight hold on his hand.

Being an only child in the home she’d grown up in, Susanna wasn’t sure how she felt about being a mother. Her heart longed for the experience, but she’d never want to let her child down as her mother had her. Could she do a better job? What if she didn’t know how?

“For now, we’re staying at an inn on the outskirts of town called the Red Rooster. Do you know the place?”

Susanna smiled. “Yes, that’s one of Logan Meadows’s oldest establishments. We’re quite proud of the dwelling. You know Mrs. Hollyhock then?”

“Oh, she’s a dear,” the woman said. She glanced at her husband as if she expected him to say something more.

He didn’t disappoint. “It’s the other woman who’s hard to abide.”

“Wallace.” His wife’s tone was cautioning.

“Well, she is,” Wallace said. “If she doesn’t want to be known as a sourpuss, she should act accordingly.” He looked apologetically at Susanna. “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Sadler. Please, have him look us up.”

“Thank you, I will. I’m Susanna Robinson. I usually work at the restaurant, but for the next few days, I’ll be splitting my time between the Silky Hen and nursing at the town hall we’ve turned into a makeshift infirmary.”

Perhaps there was a silver lining to be found amongst all the pain and confusion of late. Logan Meadows would get past this trial, and be the stronger for it. It was remarkable how the town had pulled together in their time of need.

Terrence took a handful of his mother’s skirt and gave a pull. “I wanna see the buffalo.”

“Yes,
honey
, we’re going there right now.”

Mr. Sadler touched his hat once again, then placed his hand on his wife’s back, still keeping hold of his son’s hand. The three soon disappeared in the sea of unfamiliar faces as they made their way to the livery to see Maximus and Clementine, the town mascots. It was times like these that Susanna hungered for what the three of them had. Family was good, and precious. She had to believe a marriage like that would last. She just had to.

CHAPTER TWELVE

A
lbert cradled his head in his arms as debris rained down on his back. Rocks and sticks jabbed into his belly. Then the air went silent.

“Preston?”

Albert scrambled to his knees, then took the hand Babcock offered. The guard looked as disheveled as Albert felt, and his hand was bleeding from landing on some rocks. Albert stood and brushed at the front of his shirt, which had taken the worst of his careening fall. His ears rang painfully from the discharge.

Funny, at that last second before the dynamite went off, all he could think about was Susanna, and how much he’d miss her if he accidently turned up dead. Morbid thought, but a thought just the same. Was he a fool to keep thinking Floria would give him the divorce? Just because that’s what he wanted, didn’t mean it would happen. Or that Susanna would still want him. He wished he knew what was bothering her, besides all the trouble of late. There was something, he was sure.

“You all right?” Albert asked, pointing to the cut.

Babcock gave a mirthless chuckle. “What was that?” He pulled his earlobe, his face scrunching in pain.

Albert nodded. “Yeah, I can’t hear a thing either. What about your hand?”

“Just a scratch.” Babcock stepped out of the smoke and waved the others over. The men took off toward the train at a gallop, and Gabe followed more slowly in the wagon.

He and Babcock started back to the train car.

Albert retrieved the coil of rope they’d laid close and started up the ladder, not sure what he’d find on the top, if there was a top to the car left at all. He poked his head over and gave a long whistle, then looked down at Babcock. “That did the trick all right. I can see your man. Looks dead from here. The money trunks are intact.” He finished the climb and made room for Babcock.

Susanna looked down the street at Albert and Dalton as they made their way on horseback. Her heart surged as she took in Albert’s rumpled appearance, the hard lines on his face, and his slumped shoulders. He was exhausted. They were two of four armed riders surrounding a wagon that must be carrying the money. Win drove, and Gabe road shotgun.

Since the blast, the saloon had gotten even rowdier, if it were possible. Some hard-looking characters stood outside and watched the convoy approach. One tossed back the contents of his glass, then threw it into the alleyway with a crash. The guns strapped to his thighs sent a shiver of dread up Susanna’s back.

“Sheriff Preston!” he called. “When’s this town gonna get some food? We’re hungry!” He sneered and looked around at his cronies, who nodded and waggled their heads. A few more men stepped off the boardwalk and strode toward the oncoming wagon, making Susanna’s internal alarms go off. Was this some sort of distraction?

“Stay where you are,” Albert called back calmly. He nudged his dun, the agitated animal’s sweaty coat most likely a reaction to the disquiet in the air. “The eateries will have more beef soon, as well as other foodstuffs. The proprietors have been hit hard with the extra mouths to feed. They’re doing their best to put out large quantities of grub and keep up with all your appetites.” Albert narrowed his eyes. “You come in on the train?”

The man glared back and Susanna stepped forward and grasped the post in front of her, laying her face against the cool wood. She couldn’t drag her gaze away.
Don’t look for trouble, Albert. Wait until the money is locked up. Wait at least until your hands are free.

“What difference does that make?” the man sneered.

“Not a thing. Now, step back onto the boardwalk and give the wagon room. I don’t want any trouble from the likes of you. This man needs a doctor!”

He’s alive!

Albert’s tone had changed. He wouldn’t be defied. Susanna realized shamefully that she hadn’t asked Albert one question about his day when they’d talked last night—not how he was holding up or what troubles he was dealing with since the Union Pacific accident. She’d been wrapped up in her own petty hurts and worries. Humbled, she let her gaze travel over his face and body. The lines around his eyes and the grim set to his mouth attested to the stressful situation.

The cantankerous man didn’t budge. He’d had just enough whiskey to feel invincible.

Albert straightened in the saddle. “Get back! All of you. If you’re looking to get locked up, just stay where you are.”

Thom Donovan, walking on the boardwalk, hefted the shotgun he carried in his hands. The men stepped back and the wagon continued forward, coming to a halt in front of the bank.

Dalton looked edgy, too. His gaze bounced from the roofs of the buildings to the bystanders who lined the street. The whole scene playing out would have been fascinating if Susanna weren’t so worried for everyone’s safety.

“What do you think it is?” an unknown woman standing next to Susanna asked the man at her side. “It looks mighty important.”

“It’s a million dollars,” her companion answered. “Heard talk of it on the train, but thought the person telling the story was making it up. Now I see it’s true.”

The woman gasped. “A million dollars!” she said at the top of her voice. Faces turned to look at her.

Frank Lloyd hurried out, hefted one of the trunks from the back of the wagon, and then disappeared inside his bank. He repeated the process twice until he had the three trunks safely inside. He closed and locked his door. Dalton dismounted and looked around.

Their eyes met. Susanna looked away but not before she saw him nod in recognition.

Oh, why hadn’t she shared her past with Albert before this? He would’ve understood she’d not had any power to change her mother’s ways. Now, if and when the truth got out, surely everyone would think differently about her, especially Albert. He’d feel duped. He’d shared amusing stories of his early life back on his parents’ farm, the trouble he and his brothers had caused—and the punishments they’d received. Shame had kept her quiet about her past. Now, she just might pay the price with her whole heart.