Chapter Eight
“I think I’ll go up to the mine at the end of the month. That will be payday, and I can also take a look around and see how things are going,” Tessa told her mother as they sat in the dining room finishing up dinner that evening.
Since Tessa had returned from shopping with Julie, the rest of her day had passed uneventfully, and she’d been glad. It was good to be distracted from worries about Boyd by the real business of running the boardinghouse. There were things that needed to be taken care of, and they wouldn’t get done unless she did them.
“Do you think it will be safe for you to go with all this trouble?” Maggie asked.
“I can’t live my life worrying about Boyd Wilson,” she declared, telling herself it was the truth.
“So you didn’t hear anything more from Marshal Trent today?” Jim asked in between bites of Maggie’s delicious stew. He and the two other boarders—Henry Crawford and Sludge—had been too busy enjoying the delicious, plentiful fare to talk much before now, but he was still concerned about Tessa’s safety.
“Not a word,” Tessa told him.
“I wonder if that’s good or bad?” Maggie said thoughtfully.
“In this case, Mother, no news is definitely good news.”
At that moment a knock came at the front door. The boardinghouse was usually quiet at dinnertime, so Tessa hoped it wasn’t the marshal returning for some reason. She didn’t want the rest of her night ruined.
“I’ll get it,” Tessa said, rising from the table to see who was there.
She girded herself for another confrontation with Jared. She was relieved to find that it wasn’t the marshal at all. Instead she found a tall, dark-haired stranger waiting at the door—the same stranger she’d seen riding into town earlier that afternoon while she’d been with Julie.
“Can I help you?” she asked, surprised and curious.
“Yes, ma’am,” Steve said, politely. Taking a good look at the young woman standing before him, he decided this had to be the Tessa the bartender had been talking about. He understood now exactly what the man had meant when he’d said that Miss Tessa was easy on the eyes. She was one good-looking woman. “I need a place to stay while I’m in Durango, and your place was recommended to me.”
“Of course, Mr. . . . ?” She eyed him critically. He had met her gaze forthrightly as he spoke, and she always judged a man by whether he looked her in the eye or not. She didn’t trust a man with a shifty-eyed gaze.
“My name’s Madison, ma’am. Steve Madison.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Madison. We were just finishing up dinner. Would you care to join us?” she invited.
Steve could smell the delicious aroma of home cooking and wasn’t about to turn down such an invitation. “I’d like that, ma’am, thank you. I was told the meals here were the best in town.”
“Well, my mother will be glad to hear that. Come on in. I’m Tessa Sinclair.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Steve took off his hat as he entered the house and followed her the short distance down the hallway to the dining room.
“Everybody,” Tessa announced, drawing the attention of those seated at the dinner table, “this is Steve Madison. He’ll be taking a room with us for a while.”
“Good evening, Mr. Madison,” Maggie said. “I’m Maggie Sinclair. Welcome to our home.”
“Evening, ma’am.”
The older woman grinned at his gentlemanly greeting. “You don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’. I’m just Maggie. Have a seat, and I’ll fix you a plate of food.”
The other introductions were made as Steve sat down. In short order, Maggie set a heaping plate of food before him.
Steve quickly dove in and immediately determined that the bartender had been right on two counts: Tessa was mighty pretty and her mother was a fine cook. The food tasted as good as it smelled.
“What brings you to Durango?” Jim asked as he leaned back in his chair after finishing his dessert.
“I’d been hearing good things about the area, so I thought I’d come take a look around. It certainly is friendly here.”
“We like to make folks feel welcome,” Maggie said, giving him a genuine smile as she sat back down at the table.
“I do feel welcome, thank you,” Steve said in between bites. “This is the best meal I’ve had in years.”
Maggie was genuinely pleased with his praise. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would,” he answered as he thought of the miserable prison fare he’d suffered.
Tessa found the seriousness of his remark puzzling. She’d known many miners and railroad workers who’d truly enjoyed her mother’s meals, but none of them had ever seemed quite as serious about their praise as this man.
“Well, eat up. There’s more where that came from, if you’ve a mind for seconds,” Maggie encouraged.
“What do you do for a living?” Jim asked, curious about the new boarder. He could tell Steve was an intense young man.
Steve looked up at him, taking care to keep his expression unreadable. “A little bit of everything.”
“How long do you plan to stay?” Tessa asked as she stood up and began to clear the table.
“I’m not sure right now. It depends on how everything goes, but I’m sure I’ll be here at least a few weeks.”
“Well, we’re delighted to have you,” Maggie said, and then she went on to tell him the basic rules of the house. “We all have keys to the house, and you’ll have a key to your room. We respect each other’s privacy. We don’t allow any smoking. If you have to smoke, do it at one of the saloons, not here.”
“I don’t smoke, so that won’t be a problem,” he told her.
“We can arrange to have your laundry done for you. Meals are served at the same time every day—six A.M., noon, and six P.M.”
“If they’re all as good as this one was, I won’t be missing any of your mealtimes.”
“They are,” Sludge said, and Henry nodded in agreement.
“Welcome to Sinclair House, Mr. Madison,” Tessa said.
“Please, call me Steve,” he said. “When I was talking to the bartender about where to stay, he was telling me about how you were on the stage that got robbed not too long ago. That must have been very frightening for you.”
“That happened a while ago, and it was scary,” she said, not really wanting to talk or think about it.
“It was very brave of you to try to help the old woman the way you did,” Steve told her.
“They still got her money.”
“But you tried to help her. That’s more than most folks would do.”
Tessa shrugged. “I would have felt better if I’d stopped them. What’s troubling is that they’re still on the loose.”
“So they got away with it?” Steve was trying to sound conversational. He did not want to reveal his real reason for being there.
“So far, yes. Marshal Trent did try to track them down, but he lost their trail up in the mountains. It bothers me that they were able to get away with it.”
“They may have gotten the money, but at least you’re still alive,” Sludge put in. “You know it’s just plain lucky that they didn’t kill you.”
“You’re right, Sludge,” she agreed reluctantly, “but it still doesn’t make it any easier to accept that good, honest, hardworking people can be hurt by men like that.”
“Did you get a look at them?” Steve asked.
“No,” she said regretfully. “They were all wearing masks, so I couldn’t give the marshal much to go on.”
“If Marshal Trent could have found them, he would have,” Jim said, coming to Jared’s defense.
“I suppose,” she agreed unenthusiastically.
“You don’t sound like you have much confidence in your lawman,” Steve remarked.
Tessa shrugged and answered evasively, “Jim thinks the world of him.”
“Marshal Trent’s as good as they come,” Jim said.
“But he couldn’t track the gang?”
Jim frowned. “It wasn’t for lack of trying. He rode out with a posse as soon as he learned of the robbery, but by then the trail was cold. He tracked them as far as he could, but it gets rocky up in the mountains.”
“Let’s hope they’re long gone and never bother another stage again,” Maggie said.
“I’d just like to see them get what’s coming to them,” Tessa said fiercely, remembering the horror of that terrible day.
“Someday they will,” Jim told her. “Give Marshal Trent a chance. He’ll bring them in.”
“I hope so. The day they’re behind bars can’t come soon enough for me.”
“Steve, would you like me to show you to your room?” Maggie asked when he’d finally finished eating.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s upstairs at the far end of the hall,” she said, leading the way from the dining room. “I’ll see the rest of you gentlemen at breakfast,” she told Jim, Sludge, and Henry.
They all called out a polite goodnight to her.
“Here you are,” Maggie said, handing Steve a set of keys as she opened the door to the room for him.
The bedroom was sparsely furnished with only a double bed, dresser, washstand, and night table.
“It’s very basic, but if there’s anything else you need, all you have to do is ask,” she explained. “There’s a room for bathing three doors down the hall on the left.”
Steve nodded, pleased with the arrangements. The bed with its fresh, clean sheets looked most inviting. He could hardly wait to stretch out on its welcoming softness. “It looks fine, Miss Maggie. Thank you.”
“We charge three dollars a week, and that includes your meals.”
“Here.” He reached in his pocket to take out the first week’s rent, and handed it over to her.
“Thank you.”
“It’s worth every penny, believe me.”
“Is there anything else we can do for you? Anything else you need right now?”
“No, I’ll just have to take care of my horse and get my things. I saw a stable down the street. Is that a good one?”
“Yes. David Forsyth is the owner, and Sludge works there. They’re very good with horses. Also, in case you hadn’t heard, there’s going to be a big dance in town this Saturday night. It’s quite an event. Everyone in town is excited about it, so you might want to plan on going.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Good night, Steve. I hope you’re comfortable here.”
“I will be, Miss Maggie, and thanks again.”
Steve followed her back downstairs and then went out to take care of his horse. It was some time later when he was stretched out on the bed, actually relaxing for the first time in months. He’d considered going back to the bar for another drink, but the lure of the comfort of lying in bed undisturbed dissuaded him. He needed a good night’s sleep more than he needed another shot of whiskey.
It had been a long time since Steve had been able to take it easy and do nothing. Not that he didn’t have a lot to think about. He did, but things seemed to have been going his way today, and he just wanted to enjoy the moment while he could. Past experience had proven to him that it wouldn’t last—not after what he’d been through this year.
Memories of all that had happened to him played in Steve’s mind as he stared into the darkness. It had all started in a saloon in Tucson. He had been drinking heavily and playing high-stakes poker with three men named Howard, Clark and Roberts. He had won a considerable amount of money from them and had been feeling quite good when he’d called it a night. The very next day, however, he had been arrested for robbing a stagecoach just outside of town. When the lawman had searched his saddlebags, he’d found his poker winnings along with a mask that resembled the ones worn by the robbers. Steve had protested his innocence, but the lawman had known of his reputation as a fast gun and had believed him to be part of the gang that had pulled off the job. His trial had been a farce, and before he’d known what to do, he’d been convicted and sent to prison. While he’d been locked up, he’d had a lot of time to think about it, and he’d finally figured out who’d framed him. It had been Howard, Clark and Roberts. That night while he’d slept, they must have put the mask in his saddlebag.
It had been purely by accident that he’d finally been set free. The gang had struck again, outside Phoenix this time, and one of the members had been wounded and caught. During the questioning, the robber had laughed at the lawmen for arresting and convicting the wrong man—Steve. A telegram to the prison from the lawman there in Phoenix had set him free, but Steve was still furious over being falsely convicted in the first place. He’d lost months of his life, convicted of a crime he hadn’t committed. As he’d ridden away from the prison, he’d been determined to find the rest of the gang and put an end to their lawless ways.
That was when he’d decided to make the trip to Phoenix. He had managed to convince the lawman there to let him speak with the captured gunman for a few minutes in private. He’d had only to threaten the weasel with instant death to be told that the rest of the gang—Dave Turner, Al Clark and Chuck Roberts had been planning to leave Arizona until things quieted down. As far as he knew, they were headed for Colorado.
Steve never considered mentioning what he’d learned to the lawmen there in Arizona—not after what they’d done to him. He would never trust another lawman again. If he wanted justice he would have to mete it out on his own.
So here he was in Durango. He’d read about the recent robberies in the Durango Weekly Star, and realized they were the gang’s work. He was going to find the men who’d set him up, and when he did, the payback was going to be hell—and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.
Steve closed his eyes, ready for a good night’s sleep. It would be his first in a long time.
Tessa wasn’t sure what had awakened her, but she woke up abruptly from a sound sleep. She’d had no trouble falling asleep tonight. It had been a long, stressful day, and she’d been ready for some peace and quiet.
Now, though, Tessa sat upright in her bed, her heart pounding a nervous rhythm. She frowned into the darkness, remaining silent, listening, not moving, trying to discern what had disturbed her sleep. Immediate and frightening thoughts of Boyd haunted her, but she refused to panic. Her mother had insisted she keep the loaded revolver in her room with her, and Tessa reached for it on her nightstand.
Tessa had never liked guns, but tonight she was glad that she had one. Slipping from her bed, she pulled on her night wrapper and belted it. Then she cautiously, silently made her way to the door. She opened it a bit and waited, listening, trying to hear if there was anyone moving about downstairs. It could very well be that one of the boarders had made the noise that had awakened her, so she knew she’d have to be careful as she ventured forth to investigate.
Her tread was silent as she left her bedroom. She paused in the heavy shadows at the top of the steps to wait and listen, but she heard nothing. All seemed quiet and undisturbed. Still, she knew something had to have made the noise that had awakened her. She took the steps slowly, pausing to look in all directions as she descended, but nothing seemed out of order.
A shiver trembled through Tessa as she finally acknowledged that she really was scared. Her father’s gun was heavy in her hand, and she prayed she wouldn’t have to use it. She’d never shot anyone in her life, and she certainly didn’t want to start now—not even that miserable excuse for a man, Boyd Wilson. She almost wished Jared was there, but not quite. Swallowing tightly, she continued on, determined to reassure herself that the house was undisturbed.
Jared had tried to sleep, but it had proven pointless. During the day Boyd’s threats had troubled him, but now that it was night, he was even more worried. He knew everything was probably all right, but just to reassure himself, he got up, dressed, and saddled his horse. He was feeling so uneasy, he decided to ride past the Sinclair place one more time. Something was bothering him, and he wanted to make sure that Tessa and her mother were all right.
Keeping his horse moving at a slow pace, he rode past the front of the building. There were no lights on. All seemed quiet. It was as he glanced in the parlor window one last time that he saw what looked like a shadowy figure moving around inside.
Jared reined in abruptly. He feared that someone had broken into the house—and that it might be Boyd. He dismounted and stealthily made his way toward the front door. Jared was tense as he tried to decide the best thing to do. He wanted to be sure Tessa was safe. That was most important to him.
Taking great care to make sure he wasn’t seen, Jared drew his gun and moved forward. He was ready for the trouble he was sure was to come. There was someone sneaking around inside the Sinclair house, and he was going to capture the culprit right now.
Jared stayed low as he moved nearer. He needed the element of surprise on his side if he was going up against Boyd. As he reached the front door, he grew tense. Sweat beaded his brow and he tightened his grip on his gun. There was no time left to wonder what he should do, though. He had to act to save Tessa. He just prayed he wasn’t too late.
With all his might, Jared kicked in the front door. He surged through the open doorway, gun in hand.