The Listening Sky (20 page)

“When will it be ready?”

“By the end of the week.”

“Who will stay in it?”

“Travelers from the stage.”

“From the stage?” She knew that he was looking at her, enjoying her surprise. “You’ve known all along that the stage was coming,”
she said accusingly.

“I didn’t know exactly when.”

“Then I needn’t depend on you to take me to the train.”

“Not if you wait a few weeks.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

“Señora Cabeza’s husband will be coming soon. He’ll be a good customer for the hotel,” he said, not wanting her to dwell on
the subject of her leaving. His voice came out of the darkness from someplace above her head. “Now he’s a sight to see.” They
began to walk back down the street.

“What do you mean?”

“Ramon Cabeza is a strutting little peacock. He’ll arrive in a fine carriage with servants and a dozen or so bodyguards that
he calls estate troops. He puts on quite a show. I plan for his hotel bill to pay for restoring the hotel.”

“Is he very rich?”

“His family is an old Spanish family. Their land, they say, was a grant from the King of Spain way back in the early 1600s.
I’m not sure how they got it, but they’ve a lot of it.”

“That’s no reason to dislike him.”

“I don’t like or dislike him. At times he’s laughable. But a fool with more pride than brains can also be dangerous.”

“She must have had a reason for leaving him.”

“Patrice has a reason for everything she does, and it usually has a dollar sign in front of it.”

As they reached the house and walked up the steps to the porch, T.C. was reluctant to part with her.

“I need a sign painter. With all the people here there’s not one that can paint a sign.” He spoke more to prolong the time
spent with her than anything else.

“I can paint signs,” she said, and could have bitten her tongue.

“You can? That’s a load off my mind. We need—”

“Don’t count on me staying to paint your signs. Someone else will come along to do it.”

T.C.’s mind worked fast Now was not the time to argue the point. He changed the subject.

“What do you think of the town now?”

“A lot has been done—”

“We won’t make as much progress now. The hands at the mill and the men at the cutting camps have their own work. Coming from
Denver, it probably doesn’t seem like much of a town to you.”

“I didn’t live
in
Denver. The place where I grew up was way out of town. But when I left, the town was spreading out to it.”

“You’re not a town girl?” he said in a teasing tone of voice.

“If I could live any place I wanted to live, I’d pick the top of a faraway mountain where there was only the whispering forest,
the singing birds and the listening sky.”

“You think the sky listens?”

“Of course it does. It hears the cry of the hawk high above the earth and the sun snarling when a cloud passes in front of
it.”

T.C. was speechless for a moment. “You’re a poet! I never thought of the sun snarling.”

“I’m not a poet. I just think… things.” Jane was pleased that he hadn’t laughed at her fanciful notions. But it was possible
that he was just being polite.

“Do you want a man to live with you on your mountain? Give you children? Grow old with you?”

“I… I’ve not thought about it. I’d better go see about Nathan.”

“Jane—” His hand had found the curve of her waist. “I like talking to you. Shall we do this again?”

“I don’t think it’s wise. The whole town will be talking as it is. You’re an important man here, and they watch every move
you make. Besides that, you’ll miss your chance with Sunday or Theda Cruise or some of the others.”

“I don’t want to miss my chance with you.”

He didn’t know how it happened. He certainly hadn’t planned to kiss her. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to
him. She looked up in surprise and his mouth swooped down on hers. The kiss was gentle, yet persistent. He didn’t give her
the chance to turn her face away. Her lips were soft, her breath warm and sweet. He moved his mouth gently against hers for
what seemed to him only seconds. Her slender body fit perfectly against his. For that short time there were only the two of
them in a vast cocoon of darkness. If it had suddenly become daylight, he would not have noticed.

As if detached from the physical world, he held her tightly against him, his head bowed, his cheek against hers.

“Jane… Jane—” His voice was husky, his breathing rapid.

When he lifted his head, she stood shaking and numb, too confused to know what she should do about this awful sheer physical
desire she felt for him. She was shaking all over, the most peculiar sensation. She stood still, forcing herself to conquer
this ridiculous fluttering weakness. Finally, when able to speak, she hid her feeling with sarcasm.

“I didn’t know you… expected payment for escorting me.”

“I didn’t know… I was going to kiss you. But I’m glad I did.”

“Why?” His arms were still around her and would not allow her to move away.

“Because you’re… because—Hell! I wanted to.”

“And you take what you want because you have superior strength.”

“That’s not true, and I think you know it.”

“Then to compare?”

“With what? I—”

“—Never mind.” She pulled away and he let her go. “I must go see about Nathan.” She opened the door and disappeared inside.

T.C. stood on the porch after she left him. He reached into his pocket for a cigar and found the stick candy he had bought
at the store and had forgotten to give to her.
Damn!

He could probably count on one hand the number of women he had kissed. He could not even remember their faces. None of them
had prepared him for kissing Jane Love. The miracle was—she had not rebuffed him. Had she been as stunned by the kiss as he
had been? Other thoughts came on the tail of that one. Had he scared her off? Would she be reluctant to be alone with him
now?

Sitting down on the edge of the porch, he put the cigar in his mouth, struck a match and, protecting the flame with his cupped
hands, lit it.

He sure as hell wished he knew more about women. In the deep shadows across the street, Bob Fresno stood with his shoulder
hunched against the wall. He had seen Jane leave the house with Kilkenny, followed them up the street and waited while they
were in the store. To his knowledge, it was the first time in four or five days she had been out of the house except to go
to the privy.

She was in the upstairs room now. The lamp had been turned up. Kilkenny was on the porch. He could see the glow of whatever
he was smoking. If he had his rifle he could kill him now and no one would be the wiser. He didn’t want to do it if he didn’t
have to. He had seen him friendly with the redhead at the saloon and a couple of other women. But how in hell could he not
be interested in the best-looking woman in town, one living right there in his own house?

Bob was unhappy with the situation here in Timbertown. If Jane were not here, he would move on. Milo Callahan was not a man
he wanted to trail with, and he was letting it be known that they had only met at the stage station and were not trailing
partners.

He didn’t understand a man like Milo. He had been wild for Polly, but the past few days he had stopped talking about Polly
and now talked about Bessie, who was not so standoffish. Milo was taking bets that he’d have the girl on her back in a week.
Some of the men thought him a joke and egged him on.

Bob didn’t care if Milo raped every woman in town as long as Jane wasn’t one of them.

A
day passed, then another and another, each one more quickly than the last. Jane had seen T.C. only briefly since the evening
he kissed her and always in the company of Colin, Herb or Jeb Hobart, the carpenter in charge of repairing the buildings.
She suspected that he was avoiding her company because he was ashamed of what had happened between them and was afraid that
she might take it for more than it was.

When she was not in the doctor’s room, she was in the surgery treating a variety of minor ailments that could have been tended
to by anyone. She put a poultice on a boil to bring it to a head, and wrapped a sprained wrist. She told a mother to rub the
gums of her teething child with a silver spoon handle to help the teeth come through. For a hacking cough, she suggested spoonfuls
of equal parts of whiskey, honey and vinegar. Thank heavens, there had been no serious injuries for her to handle.

Nathan had begun sleeping for longer and longer periods of time, and she wondered how many more days his wasted body would
cling to life. He was not eating at all now and only occasionally drank water or tea unless it had the pain-numbing drug in
it.

Jane awoke at dawn, stood and stretched every part of her body. She was stiff, her muscles aching from sitting long hours
beside Nathan. Sometime after midnight she had dozed and then been awakened by Herb’s touch on her shoulder.

“Go to bed,” he had said quietly. “I’ll call ya if there’s a change.”

Jane dressed hurriedly now, used the chamber pot and shoved it back under the bed, being careful not to awaken Polly. Across
the hall in Doc’s room she found Herb still sitting beside the bed. His elbows rested on his spread thighs, his chin in the
palm of his hand. She thought he might be asleep until the floor creaked and he turned to look at her with bloodshot eyes.
The lamp on the table cast a soft glow over the man on the bed. His mouth was open, his breathing shallow.

“How is he?”

“He woke up once. Never asked for the laudanum, just went back to sleep.”

Jane placed her hand on his shoulder. “He may be beyond the pain.”

“Don’t know why it has to be him when there’s a heap of no-goods that
needs
killin’.”

“Life isn’t always fair.”

“He’s the smartest man I ever knowed,” Herb said, then added, his voice barely above a whisper, “and the best.”

“Yes. He gave a lot to the world while be was here.”

“He told me this mornin’ not to waste my life rammin’ around. He said he didn’t want me to end up like him. Said to settle
down and get me a wife and kids.”

“I think he wishes he had done that.”

“If I get to talk to him again, I’m goin’ to tell him that I’m goin’ to marry Polly if she’ll have me. Her young’un’ll be
mine, and we’ll have more.”

“Have you talked to Polly about it?”

“Not yet. Do ya think she’ll have me?”

“She would be foolish not to. You’re a good man, Herb. Do you want me to sit with him for a while?”

“If ya want. I’ll go fire up the stove and make coffee.” He got stiffly to his feet, stretched, and went to the door.

“Ah… Herb.” Jane followed. “Throw out the coffee grounds. They’ve been used for four days now. Surely Mr. Kilkenny can afford
fresh grounds.”

“Yes, ma’am. Me and T.C. just add a dab more grounds each time ‘cause it’s faster. I’ll throw ‘em all out.”

Jane had carried her hairbrush with her to Doc’s room. After Herb went downstairs, she stood beside Nathan’s bed and loosened
her hair from the braid she had put it in as she did each night before she went to bed. How had it happened that she had become
so attached to this cranky old man? He really wasn’t old, she realized. Life’s experiences had aged him.

She went to the window, looked down on the street and began to brush her hair. The street looked nothing like it had when
she first saw it. So much had been accomplished in the short while she had been here. She brushed the hair back from her face,
then gathered it and brought it forward to brush the ends.

Some unseen force pulled her around to see T.C. watching her from the doorway. She threw the long flow of hair back over her
shoulder. His eyes caught hers and they looked at each other for a long moment. Jane’s heart began palpitating. Days ago she
had come to realize that she had feelings. for this man. Did he know? How could he possibly know that she had lived and relived
the kiss they had shared and that now he was the principal reason she must leave as soon as her promise to Nathan was fulfilled.

T.C. nodded and moved into the room to stand beside the bed.

“How is he?’

“He’s sleeping without the laudanum.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s both good and bad. He isn’t suffering. He may be in an unconscious sleep. It’s called a coma.”

“I came up last night. Herb was here. I would have spelled him a while, but he wanted to stay.”

“Herb’s taking this hard.”

He was gazing at her so intently with his silver eyes that she feared he could read her every thought. Those eyes, fixed upon
hers, were looking into her very soul.

They knew. They were waiting.

Jane stepped back and turned to the window.

“Herb’s grinding beans to make coffee. I’ll bring you a cup.”

“I’ll come get it.”

It had been a mistake to turn her back on him. She knew the instant he was there behind her even though he had made no sound.
She knew before she felt his hand on her hair.

“You’ve got beautiful hair.”

“It needs washing,” she blurted mindlessly.

“You’ve had no time to do anything for yourself, have you?”

“I will… soon.”

“Jane—” She felt him lift the hair from the back of her neck. “You’ve avoided me for days. Did you hate my kiss so much?”

She laughed. She meant for it to be lighthearted, but it came out a nervous titter. She was mortified.

“Flitter! That? I thought nothing of it.”

“I did. I’ve thought about it a lot.” There was a note of impatience in his tone. “Someday soon I want to do it again.”

“Theda will oblige. Or Bessie. Don’t
try
it with Sunday or she’ll—”

“Hush! You know good and well what I’m talking about.” His hands, hard on her shoulders, swung her around to face him. For
a moment he stood studying her, a deep furrow between his brows. Then a slow smile altered the stern cast of his face. “Every
minute I’m with you makes me more and more sure that you’re the one.”