Tarnished Angel (10 page)

    Devina turned from her thoughts to contemplate the tiny Oriental woman walking silently beside her. Devina could not resist a smile. She was exceedingly grateful that she had taken the time to acquaint herself with the maid her father had so imperiously assigned to her that morning. Not having had previous experience with a person of Lai Hua's race, she had been fascinated. The girl was bright and informative, once her natural shyness had been overcome, and, in an inexplicable way, a bit mysterious. But Devina's natural curiosity about Tombstone had allowed her little time to dwell on Lai Hua, other than to acknowledge instinctively that she would be secure in following the girl's lead around the surprising frontier town.

    Lai Hua and she had emerged from the house onto the street a short time before, and Devina had silently scrutinized the residential area in which her new home was situated. Pleasant and comparatively quiet, it was obviously the section where the wealthier residents chose to live. A quick glance had confirmed that the Dale home was the largest on the street.

    Lai Hua's quick step had led them across Third Street and on to Fremont. She had begun to suspect that Lai Hua's direction had been influenced by strict admonitions from her father. She had carefully been led past Schieffelin Hall, and her earnest   guide had echoed her father's comment that many New York productions appeared on its fine stage. Her tour had continued past the office of the Tombstone
Epitaph,
which Lai Hua had referred to as the best newspaper in town. In deference to Lai Hua's zeal for her task, Devina had stifled the comment that the publication appeared to be appropriately named in light of Tombstone's dubious reputation. They had then turned onto Fourth Street, passing the post office and the Can-Can Restaurant, where she was to meet her father at twelve. She was singularly unimpressed by the Can-Can's appearance and by the town as a whole until she reached the corner of Allen and Fourth, where the true circus began.

    And a circus it was. The din and confusion Devina remembered from the day of her arrival had not abated. Indeed, if anything, it appeared to have intensified in the press of activities of a new business day. The main street was congested with a throng of ore wagons from the mines, which were only a stone's throw from the main street; freight wagons hauling all manner of merchandise to and from business establishments on the main thoroughfare; and family conveyances coming and going among the shops. As she stood in silent observation, the peal of a school bell in the distance signaled an unexpected surge of young students along the board sidewalk. Several large, excited dogs of dubious pedigree running and barking at their flying heels added considerably to the melee, and Devina was decidedly grateful when the last of the reckless youngsters passed.

    Devina shifted her glance toward three businessmen conversing a short distance away. Spotlessly garbed, their stylish suits in stark contrast to the simpler garments worn by the other residents of the town, they paid little attention to two tattered, bewhiskered prospectors loudly arguing the merits of ore samples a few feet from them. Equally unaffected and totally uninterested in the rapid deterioration of the two men's discussion, three young matrons strolled past, involved in an exchange of their own. A brawny fellow with a blacksmith's apron covering his massive chest strode past, his ferocious glance unswerving as three painted ladies of questionable profession crossed the street behind him and walked in the opposite direction.

    Strolling on in silence, Devina attempted to assess the occupations of those she passed. Surely the two sallow-complexioned   fellows with brawny upper bodies and dirty fingernails were miners; the serious fellow with the leather apron was a cobbler; the swarthy man with the stained white coat and pants must be a cook; and the fellow in the long white apron who ran up behind the cook to tug at his arm was a waiter. Devina wrinkled her nose in distaste. Neither the waiter nor the cook appeared to be very clean. She hoped they were not typical of the help employed by the better restaurants in town.

    Her gaze moved to a group of men who had just reined up on the street and were dismounting to tether their horses to a hitching post. She stiffened. They were unsavory
charactersunshaven
, unsmiling, with trail-stained clothes and guns slung low on their hips. The third man in the
groupa
tall, wiry
fellowpaused
and turned fully in her direction. Averting her gaze as his eyes swept her
assessingly
, Devina was startled to realize it was not the glance of this unknown man's small bloodshot eyes that caused a tremor to move down her spine; it was the memory his appearance evoked, the memory of those chilling dark eyes that still hovered in the back of her mind.

    Beginning to believe she would never be free of the unpredictable assault of that remembered gaze, Devina turned to Lai Hua.

    Sensitive to her mistress's rapid change of mood, Lai Hua inquired politely, "Does Miss Devina wish to go on?"

    Raising her chin and forcing a smile, Devina nodded. "Yes, Miss Devina most certainly does."

    Smiling in return, Lai Hua continued onward as Devina confirmed her earlier thoughts. Yes, Lai Hua would be pleasant to have around. And she was such a pretty little thing, with such an unusual type of beauty. Petite to the point of being almost doll-like, her face perpetuated that appearance with its tiny features and smooth, even-toned complexion. And her hair, carefully bound at the back of her neck, was so straight, so shiny, so dark, it was almost unreal.

    Her attention diverted by an attractive store window display, Devina became engrossed in studying the various offerings as they continued down the street. Admittedly, Tombstone had far more to offer its residents than she had expected. She paused at a store whose sign read
Heintzelman's
Jewelry. Tombstone made an extremely good attempt to appear civilized. On this stretch of street alone she had passed what appeared to be two very well   accoutered hotels, a livery, a butcher shop, a telegraph office, a furniture store, and a rather elegant clothier. She had not yet crossed the street, but she assumed she would find more of the same on the other side.

    But Devina was very aware that there was more to civilization than a few well-decorated shop windows. Despite its grandiose reputation and the wealth that flowed through its dusty streets, Tombstone was surely nothing more than a backward mining town, definitely lacking in culture for all the touting of Schieffelin Hall's merits.

    Devina discounted her father's concern for her safety. Some of the men who walked Tombstone's streets appeared to be of a rougher breed than she was accustomed to meeting in the East, but most of them seemed to be hardworking men, intent on their business and interested only in mixing with others of their sort. The greatest threat she had experienced since entering the town that morning had been the memory of haunting dark eyes, and that particular threat she was determined to eliminate.

    Suddenly bored with the merchandise displayed before her, Devina turned to assess the establishments on the opposite side of the main thoroughfare. Not too much of interest…

    Devina's scanning gaze stopped short on a small sign across the street. She took a short breath: Wells, Fargo and Company. Her father had said that John Henry Thomas was an employee of Wells Fargo. Annoyance touched her mind as Devina recalled the manner in which her father had laughingly dismissed her mention of the stagecoach the previous day. She knew her father considered her interest in finding the thieves and her desire to help nothing more than interference in his affairs. The thought rankled. If she had been a son instead of a daughter, he would not have dismissed her comments so offhandedly.

    She had had time to think since that remark which had so amused her father. Yes, the man who had robbed the payroll had known John Henry Thomas. So it was not inconceivable that John Henry Thomas also knew the man, whether he realized it or not. She could not bring herself to believe that the stagecoach guard was actually involved in the robberies, but that did not mean she couldn't coax him into remembering something which might be of help. Perhaps if she spoke to him, attempted to jog his memory… In any case, it was worth a try.

    Abruptly recalling Lai Hua's presence beside her, Devina turned toward her. "I have some business at the Wells Fargo office, Lai Hua. I'm going to"

    "No, no, Miss Devina. You cannot go to Wells Fargo."

    Devina frowned. She dislike being told what she could or could not do, even if Lai Hua was obviously only following her father's orders. "You're mistaken, Lai Hua. I can and I will go to Wells Fargo. I have some business there."

    Appearing flustered, Lai Hua shook her head. "No, Miss Devina. Mr. Dale will not like it. He say"

    My father seems to think I'm totally incapable of taking care of myself, Lai Hua. I am not. I do not need him or you to think for me." Her anger softening at the confusion in Lai Hua's troubled face, Devina hesitated before continuing. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Lai Hua, but I intend to go across the street and talk to the manager of Wells Fargo about the robbery of the stage on which I arrived. It will do you no good to try to talk me out of it."

    Miss Devina, you do not understand"

    I understand that I intend to cross the street, as I have just stated. You may accompany me if you wish, Lai Hua, or you may remain here."

    Not allowing Lai Hua's obviously flustered state to affect her, Devina resolutely turned away and stepped down into the street. She fanned the choking dust from her nostrils, as yet another ore wagon rumbled by. She pressed her lips tightly shut, only to feel gritty particles grate between her teeth. Oh, this unpleasant town! How could one remain clean and comfortable in such a place?

    Determined to take advantage of a short break in the heavy stream of traffic, Devina braved the still unsettled dust the moment the ore wagon had passed. The sound of small steps behind her registered in the back of her mind as she quickly made her way to the other side of the street.

    Turning to shoot Lai Hua a small smile as she stepped up onto the board sidewalk, Devina dodged two husky men as they pushed their way out through the swinging doors of the Occidental Saloon and emerged onto the walk beside her. Her delicate nostrils quivered daintily as she brushed past them. The two cowboys smelled of horses, sweat, and liquor, and she grimaced  at the thoroughly repulsive combination of odors. Raising her chin, she continued on down the walk, her gaze trained on the small sign a few doors away.

    Once more swinging doors pushed wide to her left, but this time Devina was ready for the figure that emerged amid bawdy comments from yet another saloon. Pausing to allow the man to step out of her way, Devina was annoyed to see the fellow stand arrogantly in her path. Raising a haughty gaze to his face, Devina realized it was the same man who had reined up and stared so
assessingly
at her earlier. She remembered that narrow, unshaven face and those bloodshot eyes. She also remembered the insolent manner in which his gaze had traveled over her body, lingering far too long on the black lace inserts that covered her breasts.

    A warm heat touching her cheeks, Devina flashed the offensive cowboy a scathing glance. The insensitive fellow merely laughed! Her color darkening, Devina straightened her narrow shoulders to an almost military posture. "I beg your pardon. Would you mind…?"

    The smirking cowboy's hands snaked out unexpectedly, closing on her shoulders as he pulled her toward him with a low, insinuating murmur. "You don't have to beg me for
nothin
',
darlin
',
nothin
' at all. Old
Bart'll
be happy to give you just about
anythin
' you want, and maybe a little bit more than you expect, too."

    Startled as the cowboy attempted to pull her closer still, Devina halted his encompassing embrace by jamming her palms against his chest. Her voice was filled with loathing. "Let me go, you, you filthy beast! Let me go!"

    A spark of menace lit the small eyes so close to hers.

    "Don't you go
gettin
' all high and mighty on me, girl. I'm
thinkin
' you
ain't
the kind that comes cheap, but I can afford to pay your price. My pockets are full right now, and I don't mind
payin
' top dollar if the merchandise is worth it. Of course, I might like to try a sample
aforehand
,
so's
I know what I'm
gettin
'."

    "A sample!"

    A quick swipe of the cowboy's hand dispensed with Devina's defensive posture, and within moments his sour breath was against her cheek, his mouth seeking hers. Devina began struggling wildly, only to find her struggles ineffective against the cowboy's superior strength. His sweaty unshaven face drew closer, his wet lips grazing her cheek. She was making a last frantic attempt to escape when a deep, familiar voice sounded sharply behind her.

    "Bart, I think you've made a mistake here. You'd better stop now before you make an even bigger one."