Anora's Pride Page 6

  Approaching them, he extended his hand to Ben, who pretended not to notice. “ ‘Preciate your cooperation, folks.”

  “Anytime, Marshal.” Jesse got the sense that King was somehow goading him, while Anora seemed awfully intent on the parched, dusty ground beneath her feet.

  “You understand it's necessary I check out the validity of all reports.”

  “And you understand when I say I don't expect you'll have cause to be out this way again.”

  Jesse's eyebrows shot straight up. King's remark sounded suspiciously like a threat. He noticed the way Anora dug her nails into King's forearm. Rather than challenge the man, Jesse responded with a laconic shrug. “Never quite know where my work will take me next.”

  As he mounted Sully he heard the buzz of low-voiced conversation behind him. A conversation he would have given his eyeteeth to be listening in on.

  “Where were you last night?” Anora turned on Ben the second Jesse was out of earshot.

  “Here with you, sister dear,” Ben drawled.

  “We both know that's not true. I heard you ride out of here nearabouts midnight. And I didn't hear you come back at all.”

  Ben gave her a measuring glance. “You told Quantrill I was here all night.”

  “Course I did. How else to keep up the facade of us being a happily married couple? Marshal couldn't help but think something strange was afoot if he knew you were out carousing till all hours.” Her voice softened. “You weren't anywhere near Smithy's spread, were you?”

  “Course not,” Ben said.

  “Did anyone see you? In town, I mean?”

  “I swear. I wasn't anywhere near town last night.”

  Anora felt herself begin to relax. Surely things would blow over. The train would resume its schedule. Ben would get his leg fixed.

  “I was afraid Jesse would spot your clothes and stuff when he was in the barn.”

  Anora winced inwardly at the look Ben shot her, hearing the casual way she'd used Jesse's given name.

  “Everything's stored inside the trunks. He wasn't in there long enough to snoop that good. Besides, he's looking for cattle, not my socks and bedroll.”

  “Still, it's good he didn't suspect anything amiss.”

  Ben shot her another searching look. “Good for who?”

  “Whom,” she corrected automatically.

  “Oh, by the way,” Ben said, digging in his pants pocket. “I got something for you.” After turning her hand palm up, he placed twenty dollars in her palm and curled her fingers around it so it didn't fall.

  Anora felt cold dread squeeze her insides. “Wouldn't those men take this on account?”

  “We worked ourselves out a different arrangement,” Ben said. “One that suits all of us better.”

  “Ben King, I swear, if you get yourself into trouble—”

  “Hush, Nory. I'm not getting into trouble. I swear. I got me an honest-to-goodness job. Settle down and I'll tell you all about it.”

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  * * *

  Chapter 6

  Anora stacked her hands beneath her head and stared up at the ceiling. The curtain swayed slightly in the breeze, causing shadows and light to chase each other across the rough-hewn beams. Beneath the scratchy sheet she shifted her legs restlessly. Normally by this time she'd have been up for hours, with fresh bread already baked for her lunches.

  Giving a weighty sigh she pushed the sheet back and forced her uncooperative legs over the side of the cot. Nothing to be gained from lying abed all day, even if the thought was a tempting one. Once she was up and moving she'd be forced to face things she'd prefer to leave alone. Things like the railway strike, and Ben's new “job.” She'd have to think about the money she needed to send Ben to Boston and pay the surgeon and hospital. And she'd have to contemplate Jesse Quantrill.

  She poured a measure of water into her washbowl and splashed some onto her face, recoiling from the sensation. Unfortunately her actions only succeeded in reminding her of the day Jesse carried her to the creek and dipped her foot into the icy cold water.

  Resolutely she pushed the marshal from her mind and concentrated on getting herself dressed and into town. With any luck the strike would be over and she could collect yesterday's lunches from Lettie's icebox to sell at a reduced rate.

  The minute she set foot onto Station Street she knew the strike hadn't ended. An uneasy quiet hung in the air. Folks milled about idly or gathered in little clusters to talk amongst themselves, low-voiced. Anora couldn't predict the effect the strike would have, but folks in Boulder Springs were used to seeing a seemingly inexhaustible supply of goods. It didn't take much to foresee a rise in prices as feed and supplies grew scarce. If crime increased, Jesse would have his hands full.

  She gave herself a mental shake. How'd that happen? She'd promised herself she wouldn't think about him anymore, yet he'd gone and crept right back into her thoughts. Something that had to stop.

  Sam and Lettie's store was packed, as was the boardwalk out front. Inside, Anora made her way amongst the clamoring customers and went around behind the counter. Lettie was racing back and forth in a manner Anora had never seen before, little wisps of hair pulled free from her bun and flapping in her eyes.

  “Need a hand?” Anora asked.

  “You angel.” Grabbing an apron, Lettie tossed it toward Anora, who caught the garment in midair. Lettie lowered her voice, so no one but Anora could hear her. “There's a run on sugar and coffee. No more than half a pound each per customer. Some of them'd stockpile it if we let ‘em. Anyone wants a sack of flour or beans, it's cash only. Most important, convince ‘em we got lots of everything. The strike won't last forever, and we got enough of most things to see us through. Leastways we do so long as everyone just buys only as much as they need.”

  Anora tended the customers and took her cue from Lettie's firm, no-nonsense tones, telling folks there was no need to panic. Hadn't Lettie and Sam settled here long before the railway line came through? And hadn't they managed just fine back then?

  It was well past midday before the crowd thinned to a trickle. Anora fetched one of her sandwiches from out back and had just taken a bite when she grew aware of a ruckus outside.

  “Wonder what that's all about?”

  She followed Lettie and Sam out to the front of the store.

  “I don't much care for the looks of this,” Lettie murmured.

  Anora got prickles up and down the back of her neck seeing the street aswarm with lines of men on foot, marching shoulder to shoulder in the direction of the railway station. There looked to be hundreds of them. More than the entire male population of Boulder Springs.

  “Who are all those men? Where are they going?” Lettie turned to her husband, “Sam, go fetch your shotgun.”

  “Honeybun, do you really think that's necessary?”

  “These here boys aren't locals.” Lettie crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “Someone's sent in a group to stir things up. Don't rightly know whose side they're on in the strike, and don't much care to find out.”

  Lettie turned to Anora. “You'd best hightail it home, sweetcheeks. Things here could get ugly.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Lettie said firmly, tugging the apron over Anora's head. “Do as I say. There's a good girl.”

  The sight of Sam hustling back with a loaded shotgun stabbed a chill of foreboding through Anora as she grabbed her shawl and set off at a half run. A scant half block from the store she heard the sounds of the mob increase in intensity behind her and thought of Penny over at the schoolhouse. Her friend might have no way of knowing anything was amiss till it was too late.

  Dark gray clouds hung overhead, blanketing the town in oppressive heat, and Anora wondered if they were in for a thundershower. By the time she burst into the schoolhouse, hot and sticky and breathing heavily, she knew she must look a sight. Penny stopped talking midsentence. Desks creaked as the students, one by one, craned their necks in curiosity
to watch Penny make her way to Anora's side.

  “What's wrong?” Penny asked, in a low voice.

  “I'm not rightly sure,” she said. “But you might want to dismiss early. There's a group of men gathering down by the station. Out-of-towners. Looks as if they're here to stir things up with the strike. Lettie had Sam fetch his gun.”

  “Lordy, I can't send the kids out in that. What'll I do?”

  Anora thought for a minute. “Why don't I go fetch the marshal? He'll make sure the kids get home safe.”

  “Good idea. I'll keep them busy here till you get back. Anora?”

  Anora glanced back at her friend.

  “Thanks. And you be careful.”

  “Course.”

  Outside the wind had risen some, but rather than cooling things off it stirred up the hot and humid air, making the heat even more oppressive. Behind her, Anora heard the noise of the crowd increase in tempo, punctuated by the occasional shout and muffled curse. She was drenched in perspiration by the time she reached Jesse's office, only to find the office unoccupied, the door locked.

  “I should have known,” Anora muttered. It wasn't Jesse's style to wait for a problem to occur. Likely he was on the scene, right in the thick of the action. Best she return to the schoolhouse and help Penny keep the kids occupied till it was safe to dismiss them.

  Moments later she heard the hubbub behind her, like a swarm of angry bees. Glancing back she saw them. Several hundred men marched shoulder to shoulder, heading her way.

  For several precious seconds she stood frozen in place, certain she'd be trampled. Then the sea of faces moving her way jolted her into action. Picking up her skirts she ran to the side of the road and pressed herself as tightly as she could against the wall of the building.

  The crowd advanced. Anora sucked in her breath, trying to squish herself even flatter. As the first few rows of marchers brushed past, jostling against her, she firmly planted her feet to keep from getting bowled over. Anora recalled the time she and Ben had gotten lost in the middle of a cornfield. She'd pushed between the stalks, row after row, as leaves tugged at her clothing and brushed her face, and flies buzzed around her head. Today felt the same in some ways.

  She jumped when a shot rang out, echoing through the muggy air. As if by a prearranged signal the men broke ranks. A horse neighed in terror.

  She wasn't in a cornfield, rather in the midst of a riot, surrounded by surging, heaving bodies, the air rife with curses and shouts. When the crowd bolted, Anora was swept along with it, powerless to stem the tide of movement.

  She yelped in pain as someone trod upon her foot, spun about to find herself pinned in place with someone else standing on the hem of her skirt. Desperately she sucked in a breath and fought the waves of fear and dizziness that threatened to overtake her.

  “Anora! What in blazes—”

  Hearing her name echo over top of the crowd, she followed the source. Forced herself to focus.

  Jesse, astride Sully, was making his way through the throng, grim-lipped with determination. He stopped mere inches away and extended a strong arm in her direction.

  “Get on!”

  “I don't—”

  “I said get on!”

  Her shawl fluttered to the ground behind her as she placed her hand in Jesse's hardened, callused one and made a leap for the stirrup. She missed her footing, but Jesse hauled her upward as effortlessly as if she weighed no more than the breeze, settling her in front of him with her skirts hiked indecently high. She thought she heard Jesse mutter a curse as she squirmed around, seeking a position where the saddlehorn wasn't digging into her leg.

  “What the hell are you doing in the middle of all this?” Jesse raised his voice to be heard over the ruckus.

  “Looking for you.”

  “This is no time to be out for a stroll.”

  “What's going on?”

  “My deputies and I are escorting these gentlemen to the outskirts of town. We don't need their likes stirring up the locals.”

  “Who are they?”

  “A splinter group from the Knights of Labor. They've been following the line, trying to stir up sympathy for the strikers.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Numbers like these aren't good. Locally there's a lot of support for labor. Yet plenty other folks hereabouts rely on having the trains run rain or shine.”

  “Marshal?” Eddy rode up alongside them.

  “What is it?”

  Anora felt Jesse's hold tighten fractionally as he spoke to his deputy.

  “Word is, group of ranchers got themselves organized into an ambush position up ahead.”

  “What in the name of—?”

  “They're already riled about the rustlers. ‘Pears they decided to vent their hostility on these here boys instead.”

  Jesse cursed under his breath. At least she assumed it was a curse, it being an expression she hadn't heard before. Jesse jerked on the reins, guiding Sully out from among the marchers. “You stay with the men, Eddy. Charlie and I'll ride on ahead.”

  “What about her?”

  Anora flushed at the way Eddy cocked his head in her direction. She shifted as if to get down. “I'm in the way here. I should—”

  Jesse's arms tightened about her, stilling her movements. “Sit tight, Anora. You're not going anyplace till I say.”

  She swiveled to face him. “Who do you think you are, to talk to me like that?”

  He cocked her a smart-aleck grin. “Don't you know? I'm the law. What I say goes.”

  “Not so far as I'm concerned.”

  “The safety of the good citizens of Boulder Springs is my concern. Every last one of its citizens.”

  Before Anora could argue further, Jesse touched his heels to the horse's flanks, urging Sully into a gallop, and it was all she could do to hang on. A sideways glimpse of Jesse's face confirmed her thoughts. He was enjoying every minute of being in control.

  On the outskirts of town, a hodgepodge of horses and wagons marked the spot where the labor activists had struck a sort of a camp. Smoke from the cooking fire curled upward in a foggy gray spiral, and the smell of simmering beans made Anora's stomach growl. Jesse heard it, too. She could tell by his easy grin.

  As if by a prearranged signal he and Charlie slowed their horses to a walk and proceeded down the road past the camp before they stopped.

  Looking around her, Anora saw why. It was the perfect spot for an ambush. Jagged cliffs and scrub provided loads of cover, yet allowed a clear view of both the road and the camp.

  “Wait here,” Jesse told Charlie.

  Anora couldn't quite credit the gutsy way he rode directly to the base of the cliffs. “Smithy, come down here. We need to talk.” Jesse's arm tightened around her midsection. Was he using her for cover?

  “We're outside of town, Marshal. You ain't got no jurisdiction.”

  Anora held her breath, waiting on Jesse's reply.

  “I can't rightly talk to a man I can't see.”

  The sound of movement and the skittering of a handful of loose rocks was followed by the appearance of Anora's neighbor, Smithy. Anora shrank back against Jesse. The man facing them was unshaven, unsmiling, and, to her way of thinking, looked dangerous.

  “What's all this about, Smithy?”

  “Me and some of the other ranchers, now we got concerns.”

  “So stop by my office where we can discuss those concerns. This is no way to deal with it. You know these fellas aren't your rustlers.”

  Smithy grew belligerent. “Me and the others, we ain't seen any sign yet that you're anything but a lot of talk, Marshal.” He narrowed his eyes, as if seeing Anora for the first time. “What are you doing with that woman?”

  “Mrs. King is witness to a robbery by the same gang that rustled your cattle. She identified one of the outlaws.”

  Smithy spat on the ground. “Seen her old man that night with my own two eyes. Don't see you locking him up.”

  “You know that's not th
e way the law works, Smithy. I need proof. And I'll have it before long. Proof enough to land Rosco behind bars.”

  “Please me more to see the varmint hanging from a tree.”

  “That'll depend on the judge. Now why don't you and your friends head home, peaceful-like? These fellas camped here are moving right along the way I asked them. You don't need to be making trouble with them.”

  Anora scarcely dared to breathe, while Smithy gazed skyward, as if deliberating Jesse's words. Finally he spoke over his shoulder. “Your call, boys.”

  Several dozen ranchers, armed and mounted, appeared to line up alongside Smithy.

  An older, grizzled fellow acted as group spokesman.

  “We want your word, Marshal. Something's gotta be done.”

  “My word,” Jesse said. “Stop by my office tomorrow, anyone who wants to.”

  Anora felt waves of movement from all sides as the ranchers scattered, while at the same time the marchers arrived and started loading up their wagons under the watchful eyes of the two deputies.

  “Everything all right?” Jesse called.

  “A-okay,” Eddy replied. Charlie nodded his agreement.

  “Meet you back in town, then.”

  Anora thought Jesse'd forgotten all about her until, heaving a pent-up sigh, Jesse guided Sully in the direction of the Three Boulders Ranch.

  “You were cool as a cucumber back there,” Anora said admiringly. “Staved off what could have easily turned into a disaster.”

  “It's been my experience that any reasonable man would rather talk than shoot. Smithy's a reasonable man. He's just fed up. Can't say as I much blame him.”

  “I can easily walk the rest of the way,” Anora said. She was starting to feel much too comfortable leaning against Jesse's broad chest, cradled in his arms.

  “Sit tight,” Jesse said. “You're my shield in case anybody takes a potshot at me.”

  Anora near choked. “That's not very chivalrous.”