The Redemption of Jake Scully (19 page)

Barret shuddered with wrath. He had spent the greater part of the morning going through the pages of Lacey Stewart’s Bible—and he had found
nothing.
In frustration, he had shaken out the aged volume, checked the binding and gone so far as to rip some of the binding loose with the thought that the map might be concealed inside. As a last resort, he had tried to discover a pattern in the crude, faded illustrations Charlie had drawn in the margins of some pages, obviously for Lacey’s benefit when she was a child, but he’d been unable to make sense of the birds, angels and trumpets randomly sketched.

He had almost begun believing that his dream had ended. He had then withdrawn the small sack from his drawer and removed the gold nugget Charlie had left with him, and his dream had been restored anew.

The nugget was real, and so was the strike.

Barret insisted with growing vehemence, “The map was in the Bible. It had to have been.”

“If it was, somebody took it out before we got there, boss.” Larry continued defensively, “Blackie and me never saw it. We ain’t dumb enough to try to cross you. Even if we did, we’d be long gone by now.”

His chest heaving, Barret considered Larry’s response. Neither of the two were smart enough to get away with stealing that map from him, and they knew it. They’d have to kill him first. Of course, they had killed before, but he prided himself on the fact that they had become too subservient to him to give even a moment’s thought to the possibility of slaying him.

Barret gradually drew his breathing under control. So, if the map hadn’t been in the Bible, it had to be somewhere else. Old Charlie had to have left some kind of signs leading to the location of the strike. The old man wasn’t a novice. He knew even the most experienced prospector could become confused in the wilderness without leaving some kind of markings behind him.

Lacey was the only person who could possibly know what those signs were. Since she hadn’t made a move toward the strike, she’d obviously gone out with Scully only with the intention of refamiliarizing herself with the territory. Now that she had gotten her bearings, she would make a move on her own soon.

Barret muttered a soft curse. Stealing the Bible had been a mistake. Lacey was now alerted to the fact that someone might be on to her plans. It might cause her to be more careful…to take her time.

Barret took a firm hold on his frustration. All right, he’d waited ten years. He could wait a little longer.

Barret looked again at his henchmen, then said, “I believe you. You didn’t take the map, but if the map wasn’t in the Bible, it’s in Lacey Stewart’s head.”

Barret almost laughed at the startled expressions his statement evoked. He saw the wary glances Blackie and Larry exchanged when he said, “Lacey Stewart has waited as long as I have to claim this strike. Her deviousness proves she’s as determined as I am to get it. Unfortunately for her, she’s not as smart as I am. I’ll win out in the end.”

Barret added more intently, “She’s nervous, but she’ll make her move sooner or later, so don’t let her out of your sight.”

“What about Jake Scully?” Blackie grumbled. “I ain’t too anxious to come up against him.”

“You don’t have to worry about Scully. It should be obvious to you that if Lacey was going to cut him in on the claim, she would’ve done it already. No, she’s going after it by herself.”

Barret was momentarily, perversely amused as he added, “Under different circumstances, I might even be tempted to say Lacey Stewart’s a woman after my own heart.”

Sobering abruptly, he continued, “But right now I’m telling you both that whatever happens, one thing is certain. That claim is mine.”

Chapter Twelve

“T
he Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters.”

Lacey halted at that point in her reading. She glanced at Rosie and Jewel as they waited for her to continue, but she was suddenly unable to speak past the thickness in her throat.

The lessons had been going well. She had been stunned at both women’s quick grasp of every advance in learning she had attempted. The full depth of their desire to learn was never more evident, however, than when they requested that she read to them from the Bible Reverend Sykes had given her. Their questions were quick and instinctive as they peered over her shoulders, following her finger as she pointed at every word.

Lacey swallowed again. Rosie had requested that she read this particular psalm. Rosie had remembered abstract portions of it from her childhood, portions that had remained with her through the years. Lacey had recognized the lines immediately when Rosie had quoted them, but it was more difficult for her to read the psalm than she had ever imagined it would be.

Because of Scully.

Because he was slipping away from her.

Lacey breathed deeply to stabilize her emotions. Two weeks had passed since her Bible was stolen…since Scully had kissed her and stirred her so deeply. She had wanted to talk to Scully about the moment. She had regretted telling him that she was glad he had kissed her, because she had realized belatedly that Scully was not.

She had recalled, just as belatedly, beautiful, red-haired Charlotte’s easy manner with Scully as they had walked back into the Gold Nugget that night. There had been no tension between them. Charlotte obviously asked for no promises from Scully, and Scully appeared to prefer things that way. She had told herself in retrospect that she needed to accept Scully’s apology for those brief moments she had spent in his arms. She had told herself that if he wanted it that way, she would accept his apology—but Scully didn’t seem willing to give her the chance. He had forced a painful distance between them since that morning, which he began by skipping breakfast at the restaurant while she was working there, by not appearing until evening, when he spoke to her briefly, often with an excuse why they couldn’t have supper together.

Her Bible was lost to her.

Her nightmares continued.

And she had lost her best friend.

“Lacey, are you all right?”

Lacey looked up into Rosie’s querulous expression, then back down at the Bible in her hand. She replied past the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry. My mind must’ve drifted.”

Aware that they were waiting, she continued softly and sincerely,
“He restoreth my soul.”

Scully walked solemnly up the street, his expression forbidding. It had been a long two weeks since he had last held Lacey in his arms, and he ached inside. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, when his feelings had slipped past protectiveness and friendship. Yet he knew the distance he had put between them was not only necessary. It was urgent.

Urgent, because he did not want to make the mistake of telling Lacey he loved her.

Scully lengthened his stride as the storefront he sought came into view. He needed no one to tell him that more had to have been at stake than an old Bible in order for someone to secretly follow Lacey and him on their long, tedious journey into the wilderness. During the week past, he had discreetly talked to everyone who could’ve been on the street the day Lacey’s Bible was stolen, but no one had noticed anything unusual. Then he had gone back to talk to Mary.

Scully remembered Mary’s annoyance at her off-handed recollection of Blackie Oaks’s visit to her front door. She had said, “His inquiry was a complete waste of time, and what irritated me most was the half smile on his face that made me think he was aware of it. All that talk about rushing right over to talk to me when he heard a room might be available in my house—then all that hogwash about how he and that other ruffian friend of his wanted to pay to eat at my table every night because they hadn’t been eating well lately…as if I’d ever allow it!” She had shuddered. “That Blackie fella actually had the nerve to stick his foot in my doorway so I couldn’t close it on him!”

With those comments under his belt, Scully had then talked to Harry Rice, who usually ate breakfast at the restaurant at that time of day. Harry had nodded and said, “I did see Blackie and Larry on the street when I left Sadie’s that morning. I remember thinking they must’ve fallen out of bed to be up and out on the street so early, but then when they went into Barret Gould’s office, I figured he must’ve sent for them.”

Blackie Oaks
and
Larry Hayes…

Yes, there had to be more to the theft of the Bible than was obviously apparent.

Scully had strained to remember that last day when Charlie and he had talked. Strangely, what he remembered most was the way Charlie had smiled when they had reminisced about the time they had spent working together years earlier. In retrospect, however, it seemed they had passed the greatest portion of the time discussing how Scully had come into the unexpected ownership of the Gold Nugget. He remembered his surprise when Charlie mentioned his granddaughter, saying she was a gift in his old age, and that he treasured her more than he could ever treasure the gold strike he had prospected for all his life. He had said he’d left her behind at the cabin to take care of Careful, who had seemed to be ailing, but he’d bring her in to meet Scully the next time he was in town—which would probably be soon.

Scully wondered why he hadn’t asked what would be bringing Charlie into town again so soon, especially when he knew Charlie spent as many hours as he could squeeze into the day prospecting for the gold that he always expected he’d find in the next shovelful of dirt to be turned over.

He now wished he had.

Scully halted outside Barret Gould’s office, his expression grim. He pushed open the door and walked inside.

Scully fixed his gaze on Barret’s neatly shaven face as Barret stood up behind his great mahogany desk. He noted the fellow’s forced smile as Barret said, “Well, well…if it isn’t Jake Scully. How may I help you?”

Silent, Scully remembered the day that impressive mahogany desk arrived in town. The outlandish scene Barret had made as he had directed the unloading of that prestigious piece of furniture from the delivery wagon had amused some onlookers, but it hadn’t amused him. The true nature of the man had been revealed that day, and he hadn’t liked when he had seen.

He still didn’t.

Scully responded, “I can’t rightly say if you can help me, but maybe you can answer a few questions that have been bothering me of late.”

“Questions?” Barret’s smile froze.

Scully pressed, “You know Lacey Stewart, of course.”

Barret shrugged. “Yes, I do. She’s a lovely young woman.”

“You also know she’s Charlie Pratt’s granddaughter.”

“I assume that’s general knowledge in Weaver.”

“Nobody ever did find out who killed Charlie.”

“So?”

“Or why.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I was wondering if you had any business with Charlie Pratt years back.”

“Charlie? No, not that I recall. Why do you ask?”

“Charlie never did say why he came into town that last day.”

“I should think you’d know better than anyone else in this town the answer to that question. Like all the other prospectors who frequent your establishment, Charlie was most likely hot, thirsty and in need of a break from prospecting. A visit to your saloon was a natural choice.”

“Charlie wasn’t like ‘all the other prospectors.’”

“I didn’t know the man well enough, so I can’t comment on that.”

In order to see the lawyer’s reaction, Scully prevaricated, “There are some folks in Weaver who seem to remember Charlie paying a visit to your office when he was in town.”

“They’d be mistaken.”

Noting Barret’s instinctively defensive posture, Scully added, “There’s been more than a usual interest in Lacey’s comings and goings lately.”

“That’s understandable, don’t you think? She’s quite a beauty.”

“She’s also had something very important stolen from her recently—something old Charlie gave her.”

“So?”

“Aren’t you curious about what was stolen?”

Barret shrugged again. “Not really. I can’t imagine that old man would have left his granddaughter anything that could possibly be of interest to me.”

“Really?”

Barret’s posture grew rigid. “Are you accusing me of theft?”

Scully did not reply.

“You’re insane. I don’t have the slightest interest in Lacey Stewart’s meager possessions.”

Scully pinned him with his gaze. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“It’s time for you to leave.”

Scully paused, then added, “Charlie put Lacey in my care. I want you to know that I take that charge very seriously. Anybody who tries to harm her in any way will answer to me.”

“You’re wasting your time and mine. Please leave.”

“I’ll leave in my own time, Barret, but first I want to make something very clear. If you have any intentions toward Lacey Stewart, back off. Otherwise, you’ll end up a sorry man.”

“Is that a threat?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Get out.”

Scully allowed his gaze to linger for a few tense moments before he turned slowly toward the exit. He did not bother to look back as he pulled the door closed behind him and started back down the street.

He had seen what he had wanted to see.

Barret Gould had the look of a guilty man.

The office door closed behind Scully, and Barret felt a flush of pure fury.

The gall of the man, to approach a respectable citizen in his own quarters and accuse him of petty thievery when Scully, himself, was nothing more than a barkeep!

Barret took a shuddering breath and walked to the window to watch Scully as he strode down the street. The man was a fool for warning him, but now that he had, it appeared Scully would have to be taken care of when everything came to a close. That’s where Blackie and Larry would again earn their keep. A bullet in the man’s back wouldn’t cause either one of them much stress.

Or him, either.

Scully turned the corner of the street and Barret whispered into the silence, “You came here to give me warning, Scully, but you succeeded in doing only one thing. Fool. You’ve signed your own death warrant.”

“You look like a man on a mission.”

Scully turned at the sound of the familiar, throaty voice. He paused, his hand on the Gold Nugget’s swinging door, and looked down into Charlotte’s smile.

“Can’t manage a smile for an old friend, Scully?” Charlotte chided him softly as she ran a dainty hand against the upward sweep of her blazing red hair. “I must be losing my touch.”

Scully swept her with a glance. Charlotte was wearing a small straw hat and a simple green gown that emphasized her natural assets clearly. Scully smiled. Even in her street clothes, Charlotte dressed to be noticed, a fact that she never denied. He had always admired her candor.

Scully had the feeling he would be subjected to her candor in another way when Charlotte began, “I’ve been missing you more than ever, Scully. I was expecting I’d start seeing more of you when things started cooling down between you and Lacey.”

“I’m Lacey’s guardian, Charlotte. That’s all I’ve ever been to her.”

“Right, and like my mama told me, the moon is made of green cheese.” Charlotte slanted him a half smile. “You used to be one of my biggest admirers, Scully.”

Scully reluctantly returned her smile. “I still admire you, Charlotte.”

“So, what’s going on?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Charlotte’s smile faded. “Have you and Lacey had a falling out?”

“No, I told you—”

“I know what you told me, and I know what I see.” Charlotte moved a step closer. “You’re a man in a million, Scully. I don’t expect to give up on you easily.”

“Give up on me?”

“Let me clarify…turn you over to another woman.”

“Like I said, there’s no ‘other woman’ involved. I’ve been busy.”

“And like I said, I know what I see. Scully…” Charlotte’s voice dropped a note softer as she said, “I’ve always been a woman who said what she thinks. As you know, I have no shortage of admirers, but I’ve been missing you—because you make me smile inside. It’s a good thing to smile inside. I miss that, too.”

“Charlotte…”

“Give what I’m saying a little thought…and remember that I’ll be there for you.”

“Charlotte…”

“I said, think about it.” Charlotte suddenly laughed. “And don’t look so serious.”

Standing on tiptoe, Charlotte brushed Scully’s mouth with hers and whispered with a wink, “There’s more where that came from, darlin’.” She walked off down the street with a practiced sway. Scully stared after her for an extended moment, then turned back to push his way through the swinging doors. He did not stop until he reached his office at the rear, then closed the door behind him.

Charlotte dismissed from his mind, Scully stood still in the silence, recalling the look on Barret’s face when he left. Yes, Barret had the look of a guilty man…an
impatient
, guilty man.

If he was right, Barret would make things start happening soon.

Lacey stood, shaken, in the shadows of the mercantile doorway. Her new Bible in hand, Rosie and Jewel’s paperwork under her arm, she had been making her way back to the boarding house when she had seen
them.

Her breathing uneven, her throat tight, Lacey struggled against tears. She had seen the kiss Charlotte and Scully had exchanged. She had also seen the expression on Charlotte’s face when she had turned to walk back down the street, and the way Scully’s gaze had followed her. Their short conversation and that kiss had been laced with a history between the two of them that could not be denied.

Lacey could avoid the truth no longer. Scully was a man of the world. The kiss he had given her had been merely an expression of affection and an appreciation of her distress. By reading more into it, she had made him uncomfortable, and the former ease that had been between them had disappeared in an instant, never to be reclaimed.