Crimson Palace (2 page)

As she went about her work, Shinonn once again savored the stranger’s compliments. Did he really think she was pretty? What if he really did come back after she had finished growing up? The thought of standing before those smoldering gray eyes again, fully grown and ready for love, caused a shiver of excitement to run up her spine.

Stoking the fire to bring the kettle of water to boil, she peeled onions and potatoes. Each day she rose at dawn, worked with the horses, cooked the meals, cleaned up after them and then fell into bed exhausted, only to rise again at dawn the next morning to begin the cycle again. She could barely remember any life but this. When she saw other girls her age, dressed in pretty frocks, giggling lightheartedly with each other, she couldn’t help but feel a bitter anger at her own lot in life.

She had yearned to go to school with the other children when she was younger. But there had never been time for such foolishness for Shinonn Flannery. Though it didn’t seem to bother her brother that they were both illiterate, she was mortified that she could neither read nor write.

At least in her case it wasn’t a case of being slow whitted. She had learned ciphering completely on her own. It was she who kept track of her father’s business, not that there was ever much money to keep tabs on. How she yearned to learn to read and write! Facing reality though, she had long since given up hope of going to school.

Surprisingly, Sean came home earlier than usual that night. The dinner Shinonn had prepared still bubbled on the back of the stove. He sat at the table while she ladled up a bowl of stew for him.

"And how are you tonight, Da? Any business come in after I left?"

"Not much, girl. Just a set of shoes for that stranger’s horse. You know the one, you met him when he left the animal at the corral. Said his name is Lincoln something or other. Didn’t get his last name.

"The man fancies himself a gambler. We’ll be seein’ about that tomorrow. I intend to teach him a bit about the game of poker, I do. And I’ll be takin’ his money for the lesson." His laughter filled the room.

If possible, Shinonn’s heart sank even lower. All they needed now was for Da to be playing cards with one of those traveling card sharks. She had heard enough stories about that sort to know that a smart man steered clear of them.

***

The next day was Saturday, Shinonn’s busiest day of the week. The local farmers came to town on Saturdays to sell their produce and to buy the supplies they would need for the coming week. The extra business in town often overflowed to the corral.

She was pumping water into the long watering trough when she looked up to see her father striding purposefully toward the saloon without so much as a by-your-leave for his daughter. If it would have done any good, she would have stamped her foot in exasperation.

"It’ll be a dark day for the Flannery clan, I’m thinkin’," she mumbled under her breath, lapsing for a moment into the accent of her parents.

As the hours wore on, she couldn’t keep the image of her father gambling away the family’s money out of her mind. Her imagination vividly pictured Sean losing hand after hand. Panic filled her when she thought how likely it was that at this very moment her father could be losing everything they owned.

"I’ve got to stop him before it’s too late", she resolved at last. Putting down the shovel she had been using to muck out the stalls, she strode resolutely toward the saloon. She couldn’t stand by and let that foolish man ruin them.

As a young child she and her brother had curiously peeked under a saloon’s swinging doors. She had thought saloons to be wicked, sinful places and for that very reason they held a certain fascination. But it had been many years since that fascination had been replaced with a deep resentment for all the misery they brought to those she loved.

Pushing aside the double swinging doors, she stepped into the room. Cigar smoke hung heavy in the air, mixed with the aroma of stale beer and whiskey. The stench nearly made her gag.

A sea of men gaped at her as she stood silhouetted at the door. She ignored the row of men sitting on stools at the bar. Searching the dimly lit room, her eyes rested for a moment on the stranger, Lincoln. He sat at one of the round tables, cards fanned out in his hand and a cheroot clenched firmly between his teeth. His eyes squinted as he peered through the smoke at the player who faced him. That player, his back to Shinonn, was Sean Flannery.

"Well, look who we have here," Lincoln said in his oddly gentle voice, shifting his gaze from Sean to the girl who stood in the doorway. "Looks like you have a visitor, Sean."

Sean turned toward her, a scowl on his face.

"Shinonn! What the hell do you think you’re doing here, girl?"

"I need to talk to you, Da."

"If it’s talkin’ you want, we’ll be doin’ it at home. Now go on with ya, girl." "No, Da. I need to talk to you right now, outside please." She firmly stood her ground, although she was beginning to fear the wisdom of her decision. It was clear Sean Flannery was in no mood to have his daughter tell him what to do.

"I told you to go home, lass. This is no place for a wee girl like you. Now, do as I say, before I lose my temper. We’ll talk tomorrow. Now, be on home with you."

Shinonn noted that the whiskey glass in his hand was nearly empty and the bottle beside it less than half full. The flush on her father’s face told her she was too late.

Muscles along her jaw twitched in anger as she realized the futility of her mission. Turning away, she failed to see the compassion etched on Lincoln’s usually closed face.

This night’s game was not to his liking. The town was poor by any standard and the men who gambled with him could ill afford to lose. Although he was a seasoned gambler, Lincoln Bradley had never found pleasure in taking money from people such as these. There was no sport to it. No, he would much rather travel to a city where he could play with a more sophisticated class of men.

But for tonight the game would continue. What else was a gambler to do on a Saturday night?

Chapter 2

She spent the rest of the afternoon working at a frenzied pace. Forced by nervous energy, she pushed herself even harder than usual, ignoring the scorching heat. As evening settled in with still no sign that her father would leave the saloon, she reluctantly left the corral and trudged wearily homeward.

Though it would have been a blessing to be able to come to her mother with her worries, to be comforted by wise and soothing words, Shinonn kept her concerns to herself. Rose, so fragile in both body and spirit, had never been one to deal with any sort of unpleasantry.

When she and her mother finished their supper, Shinonn, following a much repeated ritual, prepared a plate of food for her father and placed it on the back of the stove. Then, after cleaning up the dishes, she went to her tiny room and prepared for bed.

Though it was well past ten, the air was still oppressively hot. Stripping off her dress and underlinens, she stood naked in the darkened room, allowing herself to enjoy a few delightfully sinful moments of nakedness. Free of her muslin skirts and petticoats, her body felt deliciously light, almost cool. But propriety quickly returned. With a sigh, she reached for her long cotton nightdress and pulled it over her head. She pulled back the pieced quilt and lay down upon the patched, scratchy muslin sheet.

Although bone weary, she could not sleep. Laying with her arms folded behind her head, she stared at the darkened ceiling, ears straining to hear the sounds of her father’s return.

She finally drifted into a fitful slumber. In her dream she was being chased by an angry crowd. She tried to get away, but no matter where she ran, there was always someone waiting for her, screaming words that made no sense. She was suddenly awakened by the sound of gun shots. Her first thought was that the noise was part of her dream, but as she came fully awake she realized that the shouting she heard was only too real.

Jumping out of bed, she ran to the window, her heart pounding so hard her chest ached. Although it was a dark night, she could see people milling about the street in front of the saloon. Two figures dashed through its doors, running toward the far end of town.

Not thinking of how she was dressed, Shinonn tore through the house and out the door. She let the front door bang shut behind her as she ran barefoot down the dirt road. Da! She knew something had happened to her da.

As she neared the saloon, the small group of spectators parted, allowing her to pass. She was only dimly aware of their whispers as she passed them and entered the saloon.

The table where earlier Lincoln and Sean had been sitting now lay on its side. Money, cards, poker chips and chairs lay strewn across the floor. Beside the table, lying in a strangely awkward heap, was her father. The doctor was bent over the big man, straining to hear the beat of his heart. As Shinonn stood in mute disbelief the doctor, looking at no one in particular, shook his head sadly.

"There’s nothing I can do for the man," he said as he slowly stood. "Has anyone gone for the sheriff?"

"Wilbur and Pete Johanson went for him, but it warn’t nothing but self defense. We all saw what happened. That gambler feller there only did what any of the other of us would have done."

Still frozen in shocked silence, Shinonn’s eyes traveled about the room in search of the man who had killed her father. Finally she found the itinerant gambler, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His knees were drawn up and he rested his head on his folded arms. Still in his hand was the pistol which had fired the deadly shot.

"Shinonn! You shouldn’t be here," the doctor said when he saw her standing at the door. "Come along with me, child.

"Much as I hate to do it, I’ve got to go break the news to your mother. I dread waking her in the middle of the night like this, but she’d never forgive me if I waited ‘till morning."

"But my da. I can’t leave him here like this."

"The sheriff will take care of everything, honey. Now let me take you home. There’s nothing you or I can do for your pa now. Your ma will be needing you at home."

She turned to leave, but stopped, suddenly finding her gaze locked with Lincoln’s. He said nothing, but his eyes spoke of sorrow and remorse, conveying his deep feelings far more eloquently than any words he might have spoken.

Their wordless communication lasted but a moment, yet it was something she would never forget.

"How did it happen, Doc?" she asked as they walked down the now deserted street.

"I don’t rightly know, Shinonn. I wasn’t there ‘till after the shooting. All I know is everyone swore that the gambling fella shot in self defense. I know it’s hard to believe," he continued as Shinonn turned to him with a look of utter disbelief. "I’ve never known your father to call a man out, but apparently he did tonight. I promise to get the whole story for you tomorrow."

"That’s all right, Doc. You don’t have to. I’ll see Sheriff Higgins in the morning. He’ll know if that stranger murdered my father or not. For all we know, the man may be behind bars by then."

She wanted to hate the man who had killed her father. She couldn’t believe her da would have threatened anyone. He may have been a sorry drunkard, but Sean Flannery had never called a man out, no matter how drunk he got.

No, Lincoln Bradley must have shot him down in cold blood, she decided.

She wanted desperately to believe her father to be an innocent victim, yet her practical mind would not allow her the delusion. The man who killed Sean was a stranger in town. Surely, if her father had been murdered, his friends would never have stood up for the gambler against one of their own. The very men who witnessed the shooting were her father’s closest friends, men who drank with him and did business with him. No, if those men were to give false witness, it would have been for their friend’s good, not some stranger’s.

And then she recalled the look she had seen in Lincoln’s eyes. They had been the eyes of a man in torment, not the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

After returning to the house, Shinonn went to wake her mother while the doctor waited in the parlor.

"Mum, wake up. Doc Miller’s here to see you. He needs to talk to you, Mum. Do you hear me? Doc Miller’s here, Mum."

"What! Is that you, child? What’s wrong?"

"Here, put on your wrapper and come out to the parlor. Doc Miller and I need to talk to you."

"It’s Patrick, isn’t it? Something’s wrong with Patrick! I don’t want to hear it! I won’t go in there and listen to anything bad about my son!"

"No, Mum. Nothing’s happened to Pat. Please, Mum, let’s not keep the doctor waiting."

She put her mother’s arms through the sleeves of the robe and tied the belt at the waist as though she were dressing a child.

"Good evening, Rose. I’m truly sorry to have to wake you in the middle of the night like this, but I’m afraid I have news that won’t wait for morning."

He cleared his throat, stalling for time as he tried to find the right words. "Rose, there’s no good way for me to tell you this. Sean’s been shot. By the time I got to him he was already gone."

"Sean’s dead? But there must be some mistake. He’s fine. Just fine, I tell you."

"No, Mum, Doc Miller’s right. I saw him myself."

"But how? How could this have happened? I want to know how it happened!"

"I don’t know all the details just yet, ma’am. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Just now I want you to take a bit of this laudanum," he said as he measured out some of the liquid.

"Now, I insist, Rose," he said as she started to turn her head away from the medicine.

"The best thing for you to do right now is to sleep."

"She’s in shock, Shinonn," the doctor explained. "And you’ve been through a terrible shock yourself.

I’m going to give you some of this too. You both need to get a good night’s rest."

"Thanks, Doc, but I’ll be needing my wits about me in the morning. And then there’s Mum. She may be needing me in the night."

"But you should get some sleep."

"I need to be thinking more than sleeping tonight," she answered him grimly.