Rimfire Bride (17 page)

“Me? What do I have to do with all this?

“Because of Rimfire, or that’s what the NP said, but I think the real reason is because of your
father. This de Morès fellow intends to do things on a grand scale, and the Northern Pacific is just making sure he can get to a high muck-a-muck if he needs help from Congress.”

“Well, that’s just hunky-dory! That’s all I need. To play nursemaid to some European dandy who thinks he’s a bigwig. Especially now, when I’ve decided to . . .”

“When you’ve decided to do what?”

“Oh, nothing.” Drew went into his office and closed the door.

Drew put in
a full day of work, much of it in pouring over section maps, putting together a suitable piece of land for the marquis, whose full name was Antoine-Amédée-Marie-Vincent Manca de Vallombrosa, Marquis de Morès.

On a whim, Drew decided to drop in at the Custer Hotel Saloon. He had not visited the saloon since Addie’s death, and from the moment he entered, the change in the atmosphere was noticeable.

The last time he was here, it had been filled with railroad workers, riverboat hands, and soldiers from Fort Lincoln. He recognized a few of the railroad employees who had stayed behind once the building of the track had advanced farther west, and he saw a couple of riverboat captains who were wintering over in Bismarck. In addition, there were some military officers from Fort Lincoln. When he had been here before, only the enlisted men had been customers.

Before, the atmosphere had been loud and often
crude, but the demeanor of the customers now was as refined as if it were a gentlemen’s club. Drew saw two women present, Jana and another woman, who looked so much like Jana that he would have guessed the two were sisters, even if he didn’t already know that she had a sister.

The two women were standing behind a table covered with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth. Jana was ladling soup into a bowl, and her sister was cutting off pieces of freshly baked bread, its aroma wafting throughout the saloon. A line of amiable men were filing by the women.

Drew joined the line and watched as Jana interacted with the men, smiling and calling most of them by name. She seemed to have some personal comment for just about everyone. When he got to the table, he picked up an empty bowl and held it out toward Jana, a big smile on his face. He wondered what her reaction to him would be when she saw him.

But if he had expected a joyous welcome, he was mistaken. The expression on Jana’s face changed immediately, and she didn’t speak at all.

“Ah,
Kartoffelsuppe.
I love potato soup. Elfrieda makes it often,” Drew said to cover the awkwardness.

“I hope it measures up to what you’re used to,” Jana said curtly.

Drew found her action puzzling because, to the very next man, she was as friendly as she had been before Drew approached her. Her reaction was quite clearly intended just for him.

Jana’s sister, on the other hand, flashed a bright smile as she sliced off a big piece of bread. “You’re a newcomer.”

“I am. And you must be Jana’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Greta, but you know Jana?” Greta looked toward her sister with a questioning look.

“My name is Drew Malone, and I had the pleasure of meeting her very soon after you arrived.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the one who helped Jana get her job.”

“I did,” Drew said, looking back toward Jana.

“Sir, we have others waiting to be served,” Jana said. “Will you please take a seat? If you’d like something to drink, you can get it at the bar.”

Drew was puzzled. Why was she making it a point to be unfriendly toward him when she was so friendly to everyone else? If she was really working for Little Casino, maybe, because he was a lawyer, she saw him as a threat.

Drew found a table and ate his potato soup, all the while keeping an eye on Jana. If he had come here to talk to her, he certainly wasn’t making any headway. As he watched her with the other men, he saw a warm, open woman, but with him it had been so different. What could he possibly have done to her?

The last man was served and Greta came to remove bowls and glasses from a table near Drew.

“Miss Hartmann, the soup and the bread were both delicious. Which did you make?”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Malone. I did both, but I am not Miss Hartmann. I am Greta Kaiser.”

“Oh,” Drew said, his eyebrows rising inquiringly,
“is there a Mr. Kaiser or perhaps a Mr. Hartmann?”

Greta laughed. “There is a Mr. Kaiser, but he’s my father, and there was a Mr. Hartmann, but he passed when Jana was three years old.”

“Well, that’s useful information.”

“That’s a strange comment, Mr. Malone. How do you plan to use that information?” Greta asked, striking a coquettish pose.

“Oh, miss, I meant nothing by it,” Drew said hurriedly. “I was just thinking about Tom McGowan. He must be well pleased with what you’re doing for his business, and I’m sure having two unmarried, exceptionally attractive women is a big draw for his clientele.”

This time Greta laughed infectiously. “I’m sure Hank Thompson is very glad we’re both not married. He loses a lot of sleep when he has to look out for us. If Jana doesn’t get home when he thinks she should, or if I have to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce, he almost sets a watch on us.”

“Don’t sell Hank short,” Drew said, picking up on Greta’s banter. “A seventy-two-year-old man can still enjoy the scenery.”

Jana, observing Greta’s exchange with Drew, wanted to make certain her sister knew just what kind of man he was.

“What does Elfrieda think about you taking your supper here?” Jana asked as she approached the table to refill Drew’s glass of water.

“What does Elfrieda think?” Drew chuckled. “I don’t know. She’s probably just as glad that she only had to prepare supper for the boys.”

“That seems a strange way for a wife to act.”

“A wife?” Drew replied, puzzled. Then, suddenly he laughed out loud. “Jana, you think Elfrieda is my wife?”

“I rather assumed she was. Of course, I’ve never met your wife, so I don’t really know who she is.”

The smile left Drew’s face. “You’ve never met my wife, Jana, because . . .” Drew paused. “I don’t have a wife. She was killed two years ago in July. Elfrieda Considine is my live-in housekeeper and nanny rolled into one.”

“Oh!” Jana gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. “Forgive me for . . . oh, I’m so embarrassed. I feel like such a—”

“There’s no need for that,” Drew interrupted. “Because Addie’s death was such a public event, I forget that not everyone knows what happened to her.”

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. When Frank told me you and your two sons had gone to the Badlands, I assumed you were . . .”

“Is that what this is all about?” Drew took Jana’s hand in his.

“What do you mean?”

“You mean you don’t know you’ve been ignoring me?”

“Oh, that.” Jana lowered her eyes and a grin overtook her features.

“Why don’t you join me?” Drew rose to pull out a chair for her.

“I should help Greta,” Jana said, looking toward her sister.

“You should help me do what? We’re out of
soup, so that means we’re finished for the evening.” Greta picked up Drew’s bowl and turned away. “I’ll have Hank help me clean the dishes.”

Jana slipped into the chair, and Drew sat beside her. When Jana really looked at him, his deep blue eyes seemed to burn into her consciousness as the gaslight caused them to sparkle.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“The most obvious, I guess. What happened to her?”

“It was the Fourth of July. She was walking home alone with the boys while I was going to watch a shooting match. Someone—it’s hard to say who—was shooting into the air, and when the bullet came down, it struck Addie. Within minutes she was dying in my arms.”

“Oh, Drew, I am so sorry.”

“It’s been hard, but it’s really been hard for Sam. He was four years old and he saw her die. Of course Benji did, too, but he doesn’t remember it. I’m not even sure if he remembers his mother at all, because he was barely two at the time.”

“I’ll bet he does remember her, or at least when he sees a picture of her, there’s a memory.” Jana thought of the picture of her own father and mother that she had left back in Highland. “I was three when my father died, and I think I can remember him. At least I know about him because of the things my mother told me. Do you talk about her a lot with the boys?”

“No. Not as much as I should. I guess I feel guilty for letting it happen. If I hadn’t left . . .”

“If you hadn’t left, what? You just said there was no way of telling whose bullet hit her.”

“You’re right. I just avoid talking about the whole thing as much as I can. While we’re clearing up conceptions we’ve had about one another, I have something I would like to ask you, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure, if I can answer it.”

“Do you work for Little Casino?”

Now it was Jana’s turn to have a puzzled expression. “Little casino? What is a little casino?”

“It isn’t a what, it’s a who.”

Then Jana remembered that when she had met Elizabeth McClellan, she had told her, if she ever needed anything, to look up Little Casino. Jana laughed. “Do you mean Elizabeth McClellan?”

“Yes. Yes, I do mean her.”

“Why did you ask about her, of all people?”

“The night of the election. I saw you give her a piece of paper and then she withdrew something and gave it to you. I thought you were making a connection with her.”

“Well, I guess I did, and it was a lucrative connection at that. My purpose for going to the courthouse that night was to pass out cards advertising a ten percent discount to any woman who bought a dress from Mr. Watson, and if they turned in the card, I got an extra commission on the dress. As it turned out, Elizabeth bought lots of dresses, but then she’s always in the store buying clothes. I swear I have no idea why any one woman would need as many dresses as she buys.”

“She’s buying them for her girls.”

“Her girls? My goodness, how many daughters does she have?”

“Not her daughters, her girls.”

“Drew, you aren’t making any sense.”

Drew laughed. “You don’t know, do you? You don’t know who she is.”

“Other than Elizabeth McClellan, no, I don’t know.”

“What was on the card she gave you?”

“It was a playing card, a two of spades I think.”

“And it didn’t say anything else?”

“No. What was it supposed to be, Drew? I don’t understand at all.”

“Elizabeth McClellan is Little Casino, and she runs”—Drew hesitated—“Little Casino runs a bordello.”

Jana’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, my goodness! And you just asked me if I worked for her? Drew Malone! How could you?”

Drew laughed again. “My dear, you could not have given me a better answer to my question if I had given you a twenty-dollar gold piece.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “And now I have another question.”

“Well, I hope it’s better than the last one.” Jana broke into a smile.

“My sons and I would love to have you come to our house for Thanksgiving. Will you come?”

“Drew—oh, I don’t know. I appreciate the offer but . . .”

“Greta is invited, too.”

“Greta can come as well?”

“Yes, of course she can.”

Jana smiled. “All right. In that case, I will come.”

“Oh, there’s one thing I should tell you though. The Malone Thanksgiving is not the typical one, at least, it hasn’t been for the last couple of years.”

“You mean you don’t bake a turkey?”

“Oh, yes, we do that. But we take Thanksgiving to the prisoners at the jail. So by inviting you, I’m actually asking you to help me—and Elfrieda—to get everything ready.”

“You’re a man with many facets, Mr. Malone. I’ll be honored to enjoy Thanksgiving with you.”

“Well, there’s more. First, stop calling me Mr. Malone. It makes me feel like I’m older than Hank, and secondly, there’s a fireman’s ball on Thanksgiving night. Will you go with me to that, too?”

“Oh.” Jana covered her mouth with her hand. “I already have an invitation to go to the ball.”

A disappointed expression crossed Drew’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wanted to be the one to take you.”

“I can see you there. I’m sure I won’t be in the booth the whole night.”

Drew looked confused. “The booth? What booth? What are you talking about?”

“Liam Flannery asked me if I would spend some time in the kissing booth. He thinks I may be able to raise money for their rewards fund.”

“The kissing booth!” Drew laughed uproariously. “All right, look, you can still go with me if you want to. I’ll even volunteer to be your chaperone if you need one.”

“I accept your offer.”

“Good. I’ll come pick you up Thanksgiving morning. Ten o’clock?”

“I’ll be ready.”

J
ana
remained at the table a long time after Drew left. What had she just agreed to? This was the first time a man—any man—had ever asked her to do anything, much less go to his home. And this man was Drew Malone. A man whose face she had drawn in the margin of the Kotzebue translation, in her mind affixing his likeness to “the stranger” character. A man she fantasized about, but what were those fantasies?

And then there was the dance, and the kissing booth. As she thought about both, her heart began to pound. Jana considered herself self-confident, but the prospect of dancing and kissing scared her to death. Anyone would soon find out she couldn’t do either. Why had she ever said she would go?

She knew that men and women were supposed to love one another and get married and have children and live happily ever after, but she had no couple in her acquaintance who exemplified
the perfect marriage, least of all her mother and Frederick Kaiser. If that was what marriage was all about, she would be better off staying single. She knew what she could accomplish. Hadn’t she found a way to get an education? Hadn’t she found a way to get Greta and herself away from Highland? Hadn’t she found a way to make a living while waiting to homestead? The answer to all of those questions was a resounding yes.