Four

Seth was bone-tired and frustrated. After nearly a week in Tucson, he was no closer to finding the Stock brothers or their gang.

“You got a letter,” Miss Dooley announced as he started up the stairs to wash before supper. “Hand-delivered it was, although Bessie says she never saw who brought it. Just found it lying on the floor near the front door.”

“Thank you.” Seth took the envelope and put it in his pocket. He could see disappointment in Miss Dooley’s eyes. Clearly she had hoped he would open the letter, and perhaps even say who had written it. For his part, he wondered who would write him here—who knew he was staying at the boardinghouse beyond his superiors at Wells Fargo?

“You’ll be in for supper?” Miss Dooley asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” He sniffed the air. “Smells like Bessie’s got something going already.”

“Stew takes time if you don’t want the beef to be tougher than shoe leather.”

“Well, I’ll look forward to it,” he said as he once again started up the stairs.

“Miss Porterfield’s not in,” Miss Dooley said, and he realized she was watching him carefully.

“Should she be?” he asked. “Are you worried?”

“No. I thought maybe…”

“Miss Dooley, there is nothing between Miss Porterfield and me other than a normal friendly relationship—the same that I share with you and everyone else in the house.”

“She’s awfully pretty.”

“That she is. But then, so is Miss Jensen. And for that matter, you aren’t bad-looking yourself,” he added with a rakish grin that had the desired effect. Miss Dooley blushed scarlet, giggled, and waved a dismissive hand as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

Relieved that he had put her worries to rest, Seth closed the door to his room and took out the letter. Other than his name and the address of the boardinghouse, there was nothing else on the envelope. The information was printed in the kind of block letters he had learned in school, and that made him wonder if the sender might be someone young.

He slid his thumbnail under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of cheap notepaper. The words were written in pencil, and he moved closer to the window for better light. The entire message was three words.

Old Frost Ranch

Other than a smudged, dirty fingerprint on a corner of the paper, there was nothing else.

He’d ridden out to that abandoned property just a day earlier and seen nothing. He’d poked around the dilapidated outbuildings, even gone inside the shack that had once served as housing for the rancher and his family. The area was studded with small ranches like the Frost place. In most cases, the families had given up and moved on—either back to where they came from or farther west. The buildings they’d put up were left to the harsh sun and bitter winters. Seth had seen not one piece of evidence that anyone had visited the property in months, if not years.

It could be a trap—somebody trying to lure him out there. It would be the perfect place for an ambush. But that would mean someone had discovered his true identity. On the other hand, it could also be Sam—reaching out for help because he’d gotten in over his head.

He struck a match on the hearth in his room and set fire to the letter, watching it burn down until it nearly reached his fingertips before dropping it in the fireplace, the three words turning to ash.

He heard the soft click of the lock across the hall and knew that Amanda had returned. He wondered how her time with the Baxter twins was progressing. He’d had little chance to speak with her, and she seemed surprisingly reticent to talk about her work when the boarders gathered for meals. He wondered if the warning he’d given her about the boy had been necessary. He wondered how he might have a chance to talk to her without incurring the wrath of Miss Dooley or the curiosity of the other boarders. He wondered if he was losing his mind even thinking of furthering a relationship with this woman—a relationship he already imagined going far beyond simple friendship.

* * *

All in all, Amanda’s first few days with Eli and Ellie had been a disaster. Eli had continued to test her, mumbling answers, deliberately erasing work she had posted on the chalkboard and pretending to be sorry. Ellie had smothered her giggles at her brother’s antics and retreated into sullen silence when Amanda called on her to read aloud or solve a problem.

Today, when Amanda reached her room at the top of the stairs, she had set her satchel on the floor and kicked off her shoes. As she sat on the side of the bed rubbing her tired feet, something long and black slithered from her bag. She let out a yelp and drew herself fully onto the bed.

“You okay, Miss Porterfield?” Ollie knocked at her door and pushed it open.

Amanda pointed, and Ollie chuckled. “The Baxter boy up to his old tricks again, is he?” He used a coat hanger to scoop up the snake, walked to the open window, and hurled it out. “Harmless,” he said.

“Thank you,” Amanda managed. “Harmless or not, I am not interested in sharing my room with the thing.”

Ollie headed for the door. “Don’t let that boy know he’s gotten to you, Miss.”

“Good advice. Thank you again.”

At supper she ate in silence and excused herself before dessert was served, citing the need to prepare lessons. She was well aware of the worried look Seth gave her as she passed his chair on her way out of the dining room. Briefly, she considered working in the parlor in the hopes he might come in, and they could talk. But in the end, she recognized the need to focus on making a success of her job and was relieved when she heard Seth leave the house shortly after dinner. She heard him talking and laughing with Ollie as the two men walked down the street and knew it was unlikely he would be back soon.

She wished she could find a moment to tell him of her thoughts for engaging the twins, especially Eli. Would Seth agree with her ideas or declare them as silly as she feared they were? And what suggestions might he make? It was frustrating not to be able to hold an innocent conversation with the man simply because Miss Dooley did not approve. Well, there had to be a time when she might encounter him outside the boardinghouse and ask his advice. She would watch for that opportunity—one Miss Dooley could do nothing about. In the meantime, she had work to do.

After staying up half the night and falling asleep fully clothed at the small writing table in her room, Amanda was nearly late for breakfast the following morning. Seth was not there, and while curious, she felt it best to leave it to Miss Jensen to solve the mystery of his absence.

“Mr. Grover is not joining us?” The milliner looked longingly at Seth’s empty chair.

“He stayed at the saloon most of the night—came back with me this morning, but then said something about looking at some land east of here, and rode off,” Ollie reported.

Amanda tried to banish from her mind the picture of Seth drinking and gambling the night away. She thought about the way he vacillated between charm and sullen distance at mealtime. She could practically hear her mother saying, “I told you so.”

And yet she felt that she knew another side of him—that night in the parlor he had been different, more like her brother Jess, or Maria’s husband, Chet. He certainly had given her no cause for alarm.

The clock chimed the half hour, reminding Amanda that she wanted to arrive for work early so she could set up lessons for the day before Eli and Ellie came to the library—if they came at all. By the time she reached the Baxter home, she had strengthened her resolve to make this work out for everyone involved. After all, she was the adult, and they were children. She used the back gate that led to the kitchen entrance, having decided that would be easier than knocking on the impressive front door each day.

Kitty was kneading dough for bread. “Ready for the front lines?” she asked.

“Quite ready,” Amanda replied, squaring her shoulders and tightening her grip on the satchel that Mr. Baxter’s secretary had insisted she keep.

“That’s the spirit. Call out if you need me,” she added as Amanda continued down the hall that led to the front of the house and the library.

“Good morning, Miss Baxter, Mr. Baxter,” Amanda said as she entered the room and slid the double doors closed. She was surprised to see them seated across from each other, their heads bent over the books she had left the day before. They exchanged a look of curiosity when she closed the doors, and then another when she set down her satchel and took out her worn Bible. She opened it and read one of the Psalms aloud before placing it in the center of the table.

“On your feet, please,” she instructed. She folded her hands in prayer and waited.

The twins hesitated, then stumbled to their feet. Amanda was shocked to see that Eli had a black eye and Ellie’s forearm showed a bruise as well.

She spoke the first words of the prayer and waited for the twins to join in. She saw Ellie’s lips move but heard no sound. Eli did not bow his head or make any attempt to say the words, but at least he was not mocking her or his sister. One step at a time, Amanda thought. This was progress.

Once the prayer ended, Amanda waited a few seconds, then cleared her throat to gain their attention. Ellie watched her warily while Eli glanced her way and then returned to staring out the window.

“Before we begin the day’s lessons,” she said, “I want to say something about how things have gone up to now. I feel we got off to a poor start, and your father expects me to teach as he expects you to learn. He has not seen fit to explain why you are taught at home rather than enrolled in the public school or the one run by the monks. I can see that while some of your choices may not be the best, you are both incredibly bright—certainly, Eli, you are creative, given your antics. The snake was perhaps out of line, but it does show evidence of a clever mind. And you, Ellie, have shown real promise in the way you consider all sides of a question. For either of you not to continue your education would be criminal.”

Ellie’s eyes sparked with interest. “You called us by our given names,” she said.

“Yes, I did.”

Eli remained stoic, although when she mentioned the snake, she noticed he stared directly at her. He squinted. “What are we supposed to call you?”

“I really think in my case you should continue with ‘Miss Porterfield.’ I’m not sure your father would approve of more familiarity.” To her surprise, Eli nodded, and when he spoke, she thought she detected a bit of respect.

“I got kicked out,” he announced.

“And you, Ellie?”

“Father was upset with those in charge, and he decided we should learn at home. Mother taught us until…” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“I see. Very well; we have the foundation for why we are all here, and now we need to build upon that.” Amanda realized she sounded more and more like her mother. “I have an idea that might interest you,” she added, and—heaven help her—was pretty sure she gave the twins the same knowing smile her mother offered whenever she knew she had gained her children’s attention.

She removed papers and supplies from her satchel. As she had hoped, dropping the conversation and leaving the twins hanging had worked. Eli turned his chair around, leaned his folded arms on the table, and glared at her. “So what’s this big idea?”

She looked up as if surprised. “Oh, was that a question for me, Eli? When there are multiple people involved in a discussion, it is always helpful—and respectful—to address that person by name.”

Eli rolled his eyes and unfolded his lanky body from the chair. “Miss Porterfield,” he bellowed, “what, pray tell, is your big idea?” He sat down again and waited.

Ellie could not stifle a giggle, and Amanda had to admit that his antics could be amusing. She grinned at both children.

“We will come to that in due time, Eli, but I do thank you for your interest, and I look forward to our discussion over lunch today—that is, if you plan to join your sister and me.” She actually winked at Ellie, who ducked her head to hide her smile. “For now, please take out your notebooks and write two pages on this topic.” She turned to the board, took a fresh stick of chalk from her pocket, and wrote: If I could do anything in the world, I would…

Ellie studied the words for a moment and then bent close to her paper, her pencil flying as she filled line after line. Amanda noticed that Ellie had already completed one whole page before Eli began writing. When he did, he made exaggerated, large, childish letters that took up three lines on the page. Amanda used the time to write a list of words on the board.

The morning passed. She collected their essays and resisted the temptation to read them then and there. She would save that for tonight. She told them to study the words on the board, then she erased those words and had the twins write them in a spelling exercise, and finally, write a sentence using each word. To her amazement, Eli performed each task—grudgingly, to be sure, but he did what she asked. By the time the clock chimed noon, Amanda felt as if much had been accomplished.

“Go wash up, students,” she said. “I’ll tell Mrs. Caldwell that we will take our lunch in here today. The wind is strong, and I fear we would consume as much grit and dirt as we would nutrition.”

As soon as the twins had left the room, Amanda hurried to the kitchen where Kitty was placing sandwiches and fruit on plates. “What happened to Eli’s eye?” she asked. “And Ellie has a nasty bruise on her forearm.”

Kitty did not look up, but continued preparing the lunch tray. “Mr. Baxter is a strict disciplinarian—always has been. When their mother was alive, the children could get away with more. But these days…” She shook her head and then wiped the corner of her eye with the hem of her apron.

“He beats them?”

“He loses his temper and, to be fair, Eli can be difficult. His size makes him think he can talk back to others and not be challenged. Their father is grieving, and I suspect all is not well at the bank. He has a good deal on his mind these days and…”

“But to strike your child in such a way…”

“As I said, Mr. Baxter is a strict man, and lately, he has been at a loss as to how best to deal with the children.”

It was evident to Amanda that Kitty would defend her employer in all cases. To inspire such loyalty certainly spoke well of him, but still, striking his own children with such force seemed extreme. Should Amanda speak to him about her concern?

She heard the twins whispering in the hall. “I’ll take the tray into the library,” she said. “The winds are strong today, so eating on the porch might be uncomfortable.”

Kitty nodded. “I’ll bring glasses and water,” she said. “He’s a good man, Amanda,” she added softly.

“Of course.”

Eli and Ellie stopped whispering the minute they saw her.

“Eli, if you would be so kind as to take the tray, your sister and I can make room on the table for our lunch.”

He did as she asked without comment or even so much as a hint of eye-rolling. Once they were seated and Kitty had brought the pitcher of water and glasses, Amanda took a deep breath and plunged into what she hoped might be the idea that would get them through this day and all the days to come.

“It occurs to me that learning is your occupation for the foreseeable future. Much as your father goes off to work each morning, the two of you come here. Much as your father has tasks and problems he must attend throughout his day, so do you have lessons and exercises you must solve.”

“You’re going to pay Ellie and me to show up here every day?” Eli’s mouth was stuffed with food.

“Please finish chewing, and swallow before you comment, Eli. And the answer to your question is yes—in a manner of speaking.”

“But Father is paying you,” Ellie noted. “Are you going to give us his money? Because he will not like that at all.”

“Your wages will not come in monetary rewards, Ellie.”

“Then what?”

Amanda could not allow them to realize that she was making this up one step at a time. “We will use a system of rewards and penalties.”

Eli slumped back in his chair, disappointment evident in every bone of his body. “So we’re back to the way things started that first day.”

“Not exactly.” Oh, why had she not thought this out more thoroughly?

“Eli is very good with numbers and even percentages,” Ellie said. “Father has a bookkeeper at the bank to keep an account of things. Eli could keep an account of what we are assigned, and what we complete, and…”

“Let her finish, Ellie,” Eli said, his eyes on Amanda. It was as if he realized she hadn’t thought this through, and once again, Amanda felt as if Eli were the one in control. So she decided to use that.

“How would you suggest we do this, Eli? I mean, assuming we can agree that you and your sister will approach your studies as a job, as daily work that must be accomplished to some end. How would you make that more palatable?”

His lips turned slightly up and into a hint of a smile as he sat back and folded his arms. He glanced at the list of homework assignments she’d posted the day before and then back at her. “How about if Ellie and me finish the homework and whatever lessons you set for us each day before the end of the day, we get to leave—go our own way?”

“First of all, it would be Ellie and I, not Ellie and me—and you present an interesting idea.”

He blinked. Clearly, he had expected her to laugh at the suggestion and label it preposterous. “So you’ll do it?”

She could not help but glance at Ellie’s bruised arm, a glance that had the girl tugging at her dress sleeve to cover the injury. “I do not think your father would agree to such a plan. However, we might agree that if you complete your homework assignments and class work with marks of at least ninety percent accuracy, then we could use any time we have remaining to leave the house and explore other places.”

She saw Eli’s eyes light up and suspected he was thinking that once they were away from the house, he could go off on his own. “Of course,” she added, “there would need to be penalties for abusing the privilege of such field trips.”

“We could go hiking,” Ellie volunteered. “We could ask Father to give us a tour of the bank. We could…”

“He’ll never agree to the idea of us being anyplace but right here, so why talk about it?” Eli grumbled.

“You leave that to me, Eli,” Amanda said. “What I need from you and Ellie is your very best effort so that I can present the idea to your father with evidence that you are both engaged in your studies and wish to excel.”

By the time she walked back to the boardinghouse later that afternoon, Amanda felt completely drained—but elated beyond anything she might have imagined possible.

Seth did not appear at supper, and when Ollie asked about his absence, Miss Dooley replied that he had not yet returned from the excursion he’d set out on earlier that morning. “He indicated that he would return in time for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“What is it that Mr. Grover does?” Miss Jensen asked.

Miss Dooley paused mid-bite and focused her attention on the milliner. She finished chewing her food and then tapped each corner of her mouth with her napkin. “We do not discuss other boarders in their absence. If you wish to know details of Mr. Grover’s life, then you should ask him.”

“He plays cards—I can tell you that,” Ollie Taylor said, ignoring Miss Dooley. “Pretty good at it, too. He’s made a goodly sum of money in the time he’s been coming into the Blue Parrot.” He reached for the meat and potatoes and helped himself to a second serving of each. “There’s some that think he has to be cheating, but nobody’s been able to catch him at it. On the other hand, he called out a man the other night for just that and proved to be right.”

Amanda noticed the other women at the table, including their landlady, hung on Ollie’s every word. She, on the other hand, realized she did not want Seth to be someone of questionable character—or career. She preferred to think of him as someone who had helped her find ways to approach her teaching, someone she might confide in. The truth was that she was far lonelier than she had thought she might be. She missed the ranch and her family and the cowboys who worked there and their housekeeper Juanita. She missed having anyone she might talk to about her day and how she might make tomorrow a little better.

Of course, Seth had been kind, but here was irrefutable evidence that he was indeed a gambler. Her mother would haul Amanda back to the ranch before she could blink if she showed the slightest interest in such a man. The fact that her mother had met him back in Whitman Falls and already formed the opinion that he was a man of questionable character only added to Amanda’s certainty. If she wanted to stay in Tucson, she needed to keep her distance from Seth Grover.

And yet, later that night, after the front door had been locked and everyone else had gone to bed, Amanda sat at the writing table in her room, reading the essays, when she heard the clop of a lone horse passing below. She looked out and saw a dark-clothed figure riding a gray horse and recognized the horse—a distinctive dappled gray—as one she had seen Seth riding back in Whitman Falls. Both rider and horse moved with the exhaustion of having traveled some distance, piquing Amanda’s curiosity—and her natural instinct to offer comfort. How many times back on the ranch had she seen her father come home after a long day on the range, and more recently, her younger brother Trey?

She watched until horse and rider had rounded the corner that led to the livery and recalled what Seth had promised Miss Dooley about staying in the livery should he not make it back to the boardinghouse before curfew. Well, the man had to eat, didn’t he? And given the heat of the day had turned to a chilly night, would he not need a blanket?

Besides, Eli’s large scrawl had revealed a desire to play baseball, and after seeing the glove and ball the boy clearly prized, Amanda thought perhaps she should take that to heart. Might someone—someone like Seth—offer suggestions for how best to use Eli’s passion for the game to encourage him?

Moments later she had gathered a spare blanket and tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she managed to find three stale biscuits left over from breakfast and destined to be crumbled up and fed to the chickens Miss Dooley kept at the back of the house. She took two and slipped out the back door, careful to leave it unlocked for her return. She stopped at a community pump near the fire bell tower Miss Dooley’s father had built for the town and filled a tin cup she’d taken from a hook in the kitchen before hurrying through the dark night to the livery.

“Mr. Grover,” she whispered when she got close enough to see that he had settled his horse and was raking fresh hay. He started, and an instant later, Amanda found herself facing the barrel of his six-shooter.

She dropped the cup of water. “It’s me—Amanda. Miss Porterfield,” she added. “The teacher.”

He slowly lowered the gun. “You could get yourself killed, lady, sneaking up on a guy like that.” He glanced outside as if looking to see who had come with her. “What do you want? Has something happened back at Miss Dooley’s place?”

His voice was low and gruff—and dangerous. His clothes were covered in dust, and he had not shaved in at least a couple of days, which only added to his rough appearance.

Amanda began to regret her impulsiveness. After all, what did she really know of this man? And now, here she was alone with him. If she cried out, who would hear?

She was aware of loud voices and music coming from down the street at the Blue Parrot and the other two saloons. Other than that, all she heard was the snort of Seth’s horse and her own rapid breathing. “I heard you pass, and I remembered what you promised about sleeping here with your horse if you were late again, and I thought…”

“You’re shaking,” he said as he holstered the gun and took the blanket from her. He opened it and placed it around her shoulders. “Come inside before somebody sees you.” He led the way to an empty stall where she saw he’d already set up his bedroll and a small lantern. She felt foolish and was glad her mother would never know of this midnight escapade.

“I should go,” she murmured, and turned back toward the door just as they heard a burst of angry voices coming from down the street. Amanda hesitated, pulling the blanket securely around her shoulders, not so much for warmth as for protection.

Seth went to the open door of the livery and checked the street. “Best just sit here until they’ve gone home,” he said, indicating a hay bale inside the empty stall.

Once she had followed his advice, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He finally settled on brushing his horse, although it was pretty obvious to Amanda that he had already taken care of that, along with providing the animal with fresh hay, oats, and water. Still, she was glad to have the horse between them.

“Where is it that you go so late at night?” she asked when the silence became uncomfortable.

“Here and there,” he replied, pausing as if needing to consider his answer.

“That was the same answer you offered the other night. Is that your polite way of saying it is none of my business?” Amanda smiled, hoping he could see her well enough in the dim light to know she realized she had no business inquiring about his comings and goings.

“Yes, ma’am. It is.”

With nothing else to do, Amanda let the blanket fall from her shoulders as she picked up the tin cup she’d dropped. “I passed a pump. I’ll just go…”

“I have water,” he said, and pointed to a canteen hanging on a nail. “You should leave that, though. I’ll wash it out and make sure it’s back in the kitchen before breakfast.” He smiled. “I’m pretty sure Miss Dooley has every single cup and spoon counted.”

Amanda felt herself relaxing. He was more like the man she’d been with that night in the sitting room.

“How will you get back inside the house?” he asked after a moment.

“I left the back door unlocked.”

“Clever girl,” he replied with a slight chuckle.

Amanda bristled at his calling her a girl. Was that how he saw her? It was most definitely how her family and friends back in Whitman Falls viewed her.

“I overheard Miss Jensen and Mrs. Rosewood talking the other day. Mrs. Rosewood thinks you are quite dangerous—she suspects you are on the run from something, and having noticed Miss Jensen’s not-so-subtle attempts to garner your attentions, she felt compelled to warn her.”

“The widow thinks I’m an outlaw?”

“Yes, and she’s not alone. I’m pretty sure that Eliza McNew—the storekeeper who gave you the jerky back in Whitman Falls—does as well.” She could have included her mother in the list but decided against it.

“And what do you think?”

“I think you are a man with a secret. I think you are involved in something you do not wish others to see. If I put those pieces together, I would have to agree that while there is no real proof, whatever your business, it is most likely not something within the confines of the law. And yet, the fact that Miss Dooley has agreed to take you in would belie that theory.”

He let out a long low whistle. “Now you’re talking like a professor.”

“I am a teacher,” she reminded him.

He set the curry brush on a shelf and came into the stall with her, perching on his saddle that rested against the wall. “How’s that going?”

She knew what he was doing—deliberately switching the focus of the conversation. She could choose to bring the topic back to him and his mysterious midnight forays, or she could allow the matter to drop. She could talk about her teaching and let the man think he was in control. Over time she’d learned that the males of the species tended to relax when they thought that was the case.

“These first weeks have been challenging to say the least, not to mention exhausting,” she said as she stood and brushed straw from her dress before folding the blanket. “And since it would appear that my interest in your profession is not quite as welcomed, I won’t trouble you further.” She walked to the door and turned back. “You should remember that my brother is currently running for the office of district sheriff, and once he is elected, I cannot speak for his interest in your affairs. Good night, Mr. Grover.”

He was on his feet in an instant, following her to the door of the livery. “Amanda, let me walk with you.”

“No, thank you. I made it here without incident, and I can certainly make it back as well.” She glanced up and down the street and then started toward the boardinghouse. After a few steps, she turned to remind him to return the cup, but he was gone.

“So much for your concern for my safety,” she grumbled.