Diamond Desires
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“You’re going to be a real woman now,” said Diamond. “And you’ll have all the rights that women should.” She smiled and her eyes sparkled, but it was hard for Susan not to wonder what she really meant by those words.
Was she implying that they’d share everything together? What about John’s family? Were they still married? Did she love him or did she only want to use him for his money? The answers would probably never come because there wasn’t time enough left in their lives to find out.
And even if she wanted to try something different with John, he wouldn’t agree unless he could also marry her. So there would be no more talking—not until they were safely on the train again heading back east.
Susan watched as John took off his shirt and rolled up the sleeves of his work shirt so that his arms showed above the cuff. He pulled off his boots and socks and then turned around. A moment later, he had taken off the rest of his clothes.
When he stepped into the tub of hot water, Susan felt her own heart quicken. Her hands began to shake. She wished she knew how much time was left before they were supposed to leave. It seemed like forever since they’d been here last.
But at least this time they weren’t alone. This time there were two other people waiting outside. There was always safety in numbers. At least, that’s what she told herself.
When John reached over and ran his hand along her arm, she shuddered. His touch was warm and soft. It sent shivers down her spine and made her stomach flutter. How could anyone feel such passion for someone who didn’t care one bit about them?
Then again, maybe she shouldn’t be surprised after watching him fight against the ranch boss and the sheriff. Maybe he did care. That was why she couldn’t let him know what she intended. If he cared, he might refuse her offer.
No matter what happened afterward, Susan needed John to accept her terms. Otherwise, there would be no end to the fighting between them. And when the day came when John decided he wanted to return home, it would mean the end of any chance she ever had of being a rancher’s wife.
A few moments later, John finished washing and then sat beside her in the bathtub. They both looked toward the window. As usual, the light from the setting sun bathed the room in gold-hued hues. Susan’s thoughts wandered back to the first night they met.
After they arrived at the hotel, she walked straight to the bar and ordered a whiskey. While she waited for her drink, she scanned the crowd. She saw men drinking beer and playing poker while others ate sandwiches and smoked cigars. Some talked quietly among themselves while others laughed loudly and played pool.
Most were wearing cowboy hats; some wore long coats with wide lapels and high collars. One man stood apart from everyone else, leaning on the wall near the door. His dark hair was neatly trimmed and hung below his chin. His face held an air of mystery that intrigued her.
She wondered where he was from. He certainly didn’t look like a westerner. Not like John, anyway. She thought of asking the bartender who he was, but instead, she ordered another round of drinks. By the time she returned to their table, she found John already seated.
She took the chair across from him. She noticed that he kept looking over at her. Even though he tried to hide it, she sensed that he liked having her close to him. For several minutes, she studied the stranger. Where had he come from? Who was he?
As Susan watched, the man approached their table and offered a smile. “Are you enjoying your stay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.”
He paused. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. Could I buy you another drink?”
“Of course,” said Susan.
The stranger ordered whiskey and soda, then turned away to join the group of cowboys at the bar. As soon as he was gone, Susan glanced over at John. “What are we doing here?” she whispered. “We can’t afford to spend our entire savings on whiskey.”
John leaned forward. “Let me explain.”
She shook her head. “No. You’re wasting money we don’t have on something we don’t need.”
“Please listen.”
“All right,” she replied. “But only because you insist.”
For the next hour, John explained that they were trying to prove themselves worthy enough to become hired hands. The longer they stayed at the hotel, the more likely it was that the manager would take them on permanently.
John added that if he could get the job, he hoped to convince the boss to allow them to work out of town. With that goal accomplished, all three of them would have a better chance of finding work elsewhere. Susan listened attentively.
But even as she absorbed everything John said, she felt the warmth of his body seep through his thin cotton shirt. Every time he moved, she felt a wave of desire flow over her. Before too long, she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer without touching him.
After ordering food and drinks, Susan got up and went to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her. When she reached into the cabinet under the sink, she pulled out two bottles of pills—one blue and one yellow. Each contained five hundred milligrams of aspirin.
Taking a deep breath, she unscrewed the top of the yellow bottle. A few seconds later, she opened the lid on the blue bottle. She poured two pills onto the countertop, then dropped them inside the open bottle. Next, she carefully counted out ten tablets from each bottle, placing them side by side in front of her. Then she took the cap off the yellow bottle.
Susan hesitated before pouring its contents down her throat. It seemed wrong to swallow those drugs when so many people needed help. She stared at the floor and struggled to keep herself calm. At last, she swallowed the pills.
They slid down her throat, causing no discomfort or nausea. Afterward, she washed the empty containers and put them back in the cabinet. Then she locked the bathroom door again and returned to the table.
It was now nine o’clock. They continued eating until they finished every item on their plates. Two hours later, Susan excused herself from the table. She spent most of the night walking around the hotel, stopping briefly to talk to different people.
No one wanted to hire any of the three of them. In fact, the owner told her that she’d never find anyone willing to take on the job. If not for John’s insistence, they would’ve left long ago.
When midnight finally arrived, Susan returned to their table. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. She yawned as she sat down.
“Why don’t we leave?” said John. “Maybe tomorrow will be different.”
She sighed. “If we wait for tomorrow, we’ll lose our nerve.”
They both knew how dangerous the task ahead of them really was. How many times did they hear someone tell them that the lawman wasn’t far behind? That the marshal himself might ride past at any moment?
There was always the possibility that the marshal would catch them before they made it to Dodge City. Yet they still had hope that things would go well. They didn’t want to admit defeat.
After ordering more drinks, John suggested they try someplace else.
“Wait,” she said. “This is where we started. We should stick with what we know.”
At least, Susan thought, they were close to the railroad tracks. If they followed the tracks to Dodge City, they should make it there within twenty-four hours. All they needed was luck.
***
While driving the stagecoach across the plains, Susan often wondered why the road builders chose to travel west instead of north or south. Why hadn’t they taken advantage of the Mississippi River? Or the Missouri River? Both rivers flowed east and west, yet neither of them crossed the plains. So why not use the rivers to form a new route to the Pacific Ocean?
On one occasion, she asked Jack about this topic during their lunch break. He smiled politely but refused to answer. Instead, he changed the subject. “How’s your stomach holding up?”
“Fine.”
Jack chuckled. “That’s good. I hate it when the passengers complain.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Well, I can’t stand hearing them whine.”
A shiver ran up Susan’s spine. “You think we’re going to die out here?”
“Don’t worry.” Jack patted her hand. “We won’t starve or anything like that.”
As Susan looked away, she recalled an old saying: “Never trust a man who smiles easily.” This was the first time she heard the phrase uttered by a real person rather than reading it somewhere. Was that true? Did men who smiled easily hide something sinister beneath their friendly exterior?
During another conversation between the two men, Jack talked about the hardships he encountered while serving in the Civil War. The war was over two years ago, yet he still remembered it vividly. He also recalled his wife’s death. For days, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, drink, or sleep. Even after recovering from grief, he could never forget his lost love.
Susan found herself thinking about her own life. What was waiting for her beyond the end of the road? Would her father forgive her for leaving him alone all these years? When she was younger, Susan swore that she’d return home someday.
But lately, she doubted if such a thing was possible. Now that she’d become involved in murder, there was no telling what kind of future awaited her. And she hated knowing that she might never see her parents again.
John’s words came to mind: “I wish I’d met you sooner.”
Her father would probably say the same. By then, he would have accepted the fact that she had no choice but to live a separate life from him. At least, that was how he’d reacted whenever she brought up the idea of returning to New York. As much as he wanted to see her, he wouldn’t force her into doing something she didn’t want to do. He would let her follow her heart wherever it led.
There was no need to hurry back. After all, her family would be happy just to see her safe and sound.
In spite of everything, Susan was glad to be traveling with Jack. She felt comfortable enough to ask questions, which he answered without hesitation. It helped that Jack seemed genuinely interested in the answers. Most importantly, he never tried to convince her to change her plans. He simply listened to her side of the story, making sure to give each point equal weight.
The only time he became agitated was when they passed the last town before reaching Kansas. On their way back to Denver, they traveled along the same path. Once again, the marshal rode by on horseback.
No doubt he was checking the mailbox. He must have known Jack was coming. Still, Jack ignored the marshal. He drove right through the small prairie town, ignoring its people and buildings.
“Who was that?” Susan whispered.
Jack glanced at her. “Marshal Larkin.”
“Was he looking for us?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Are you surprised?”
“No. Not anymore.”
When the marshal finally left, they resumed talking.
“So what happened to your mother?” Jack asked.
“It wasn’t my fault,” she replied.
“But you did it anyway.”
“If I hadn’t, someone else would have killed her.”
“And you think your brother will kill her now?”
“Probably.”
Jack leaned forward. “Why? Because you failed once before?”
“Maybe.”
“Let me tell you something.” Jack reached for the flask and took a long sip of whiskey. “I know exactly what you’re feeling because I’ve been there myself.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. “After the war, I returned home to find my wife dead—a victim of poisoning.”
Susan stared at Jack, unable to speak. Her throat tightened. “My condolences.”
“Thanks.” His voice cracked. “Anyway, I decided to leave the army and settle down. That’s where I met your mother.”
“Where are we headed next?” Susan asked.
“Kansas City.” Jack pointed westward. “Once we reach the city, we’ll go north toward Omaha.”
They continued driving until dusk. In the distance, they spotted a large hill surrounded by trees. “Is that a fort?”
“Yes. We should get there before nightfall.”
As soon as they crested the hill, they saw a military camp. Men were setting up tents, preparing meals, and gathering firewood. A few horses grazed nearby, while others wandered around aimlessly.
Susan watched them, wondering if any of those soldiers were involved in the murder. Were they the ones who murdered Sam? If so, why? They weren’t part of the gang; therefore, they wouldn’t have any reason to want to harm Sam.
Maybe one of them was a friend of Sam’s. Perhaps the killing was done out of anger. Or maybe one of them knew something that might help clear Jack’s name.
A man dressed in uniform approached the buggy. With his hat pulled low over his face, he walked past the front wheels of the buggy and stopped in front of them. “Howdy,” he said.
Jack got down from the driver’s seat and waited for Susan. Then he handed her the reins.
“You don’t happen to be Mr. Jekyll, do you?” the soldier asked.
“We certainly hope not!” Jack replied.
He turned to Susan. “Don’t worry. You can stay behind.”
Susan climbed down from the buggy and followed Jack to meet the man. The soldier was tall and lean, wearing a brown wool uniform, a wide-brimmed hat, and leather gloves. There was nothing about him that suggested he was a killer or even remotely related to the criminal world.
Yet, somehow, he carried himself differently than other men she’d encountered during her travels. It was almost like he could sense the darkness within her.
The marshal had told her to expect this. Apparently, many lawmen feared the criminal element. They thought criminals were dangerous men, capable of anything, including murder. Of course, that wasn’t always true.
Some were ordinary folks, just trying to survive in an uncaring society. But most people didn’t believe that. People liked to judge others based on how they looked or acted rather than knowing them personally.
“May I ask what brings you here?” the soldier asked.
“Just passing through.”
“Well, we’ll see you around.” He turned away from them and began walking toward a group of officers.
Jack turned to Susan. “That’s Captain James Blacklock. He’s in charge of Fort Wallace.”
“What does he look for?”
“People willing to join the army.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“No. And I’m sure he won’t care.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because we need to talk with someone.”
The End