Fragile Desires
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“It’s been a few years since we’ve had a new face,” the ranch foreman said as he watched me walk toward his house. He wore an uncharacteristic frown on his broad-shouldered, middle-aged face. “I hope you’re up to the job.”
The sun was bright and hot; my hair felt like it would frizz out of control if I didn’t do something about it fast. I’d left my bonnet behind in an effort not to draw any unwanted attention from men, but that didn’t mean I should have walked through town with my curls sticking to my neck. So I pulled the hat off my head and smoothed back the wild locks.
When I reached him, the foreman handed me a small leather valise. “Here’s your pay.”
He held out his hand, but I didn’t take it. Instead, I stared at the large silver dollar resting on his palm. It was a good size for such a thin piece of metal; probably worth more than all my savings combined. And he expected me to work for this?
My anger must have shown on my face because he quickly added, “Don’t worry. You’ll be paid well. The only thing is, there will be no room for negotiation in regard to your wages.”
So I wasn’t going to be able to bargain for a lower rate or even refuse when they found something wrong with one of my cows or horses. This was a different sort of working life. “What happens when things go wrong?” I asked.
“We have to make sure our workers are capable of handling whatever comes their way.” His gaze lingered on me while I tried to decide what he meant by that. Did that mean that if something went bad, then it was my fault?
Or did it mean that if something happened to the ranch’s equipment, livestock, or buildings, then it was also mine? Whatever it was, the man had given me no room for discussion.
“If you think you can handle everything,” he continued, “then you’re hired.”
His words were cold and short. There was little chance I’d be fired because if anything went wrong, then it would be my fault. But it still didn’t sound right to me. No doubt I’d learn soon enough why the foreman thought I could do a good job despite my lack of experience.
“Do you happen to have work for a woman who doesn’t mind getting dirty?” I said, trying another tactic. “I’m used to long hours.”
“Long hours?” He frowned, but the frown quickly faded, leaving me wondering if I was just imagining it. “No, we don’t have any openings at the moment. Maybe in the future. I’ll keep you in mind.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I responded with what I hoped was a polite smile. “Thank you so much for your time.” Then I turned and walked away, feeling the heat on my back as I crossed the street.
On my side of the street were a few other businesses. One looked like an old general store, and the others were smaller and didn’t appear to be doing business yet. On the opposite side of the road was a small restaurant and bar where I saw some people eating and drinking inside.
“Miss?” A voice called out after I passed by the last building before reaching the main street. I stopped and turned, thinking I heard someone call my name again. Only it wasn’t a stranger who spoke now; it was the woman who owned the bar.
She stood with her hands on her hips, wearing a white dress that hugged the curves of her body. Her blonde hair fell around her face, covering her eyes. When she spotted me, she gave me a friendly wave. “Are you here for dinner? It’s a special day.”
“Not today,” I answered. She was referring to my arrival, but I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t want to start a conversation; it was too early for pleasantries.
“You might change your mind tomorrow night,” she offered as if reading my mind. “We’ve got a live band coming tonight—a piano player. He’s quite talented.”
“I’ll remember.” It sounded promising. “Good afternoon.” And I turned to continue walking home.
But the woman had other ideas. “Wait!”
I stopped and waited for her to approach, but when she did, I stepped closer to avoid her arms catching up to mine. She moved toward me, but I kept stepping back. We played cat-and-mouse with each other until we came face to face. Then I glanced down to see that her dress had been painted with flowers and vines.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled. “How are you? Are you enjoying your first night in town?”
“My first day,” I corrected, then turned to go. But her fingers touched my arm before I took my next step. “It’s just that I don’t know anyone in this place. Everyone seems to know everyone else already and I haven’t been here long. Would it be possible to meet you?”
“Me?” I repeated her words, unsure of what to say or do.
“Yes, you! Why not?” She pulled on my hand until I turned and faced her, forcing me to look straight into those bright eyes of hers. They weren’t so blue anymore; they looked almost gray with all the green paint smeared over them. The color reminded me of the sky at sunset when the red and yellow clouds merged together.
“I’d rather get to know a stranger than an acquaintance,” I told her honestly.
She shrugged, then dropped her arms from my shoulders. “I’m sorry.” I hadn’t expected such an apology and the sincerity of her feelings surprised me. “Well, let’s walk together then. You might find out how friendly some of the folks can be.”
The offer pleased me, but it also made me wonder if she thought I needed someone to watch out for me. After all, there were plenty of men who might want to harm a woman alone in a strange city. That’s why I was glad when we arrived at her building and entered through a dark doorway, which led to an elevator shaft.
“This is your house?” I asked when I caught sight of the small room.
“For now.” She pointed to a small bedroom on our left. “That will soon become the salon. In the meantime, I have an office upstairs and a guest room downstairs.” She waved her hand, indicating the rest of the apartment. “Come in, come in.”
The living area was spacious and airy and filled with natural light from the tall windows on three sides. She sat on a couch near the door leading out onto the balcony. As I joined her, I noticed that the furniture matched: two chairs, a table between them, a fireplace, and two end tables.
A large painting hung over the mantel. It was of a lake with boats gliding across its surface; a lone sailboat floated in the distance.
“It’s a wonderful view,” I commented.
“A little slice of heaven right here on earth,” the woman said. “You can see the water from almost every room in my place. My husband built the house for me, but he never set foot in it.”
“Why not?” I knew the answer before she uttered a word. He had died. “What happened to him?”
She leaned against the back of the sofa and stared at the floor for several moments. Then she finally lifted her head. “He passed away about four years ago.” I saw sadness and regret in her eyes. “It’s hard having a house like this without someone to share it with.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” My heart went out to her.
“Thank you.” She gave me another sad smile and motioned toward one of the chairs. “Please, sit with me, have a drink.”
As much as I wanted to spend more time with her, I decided to decline and stand instead. “Thank you, but I really need to get back to work. Thank you for inviting me to your place though.”
“Work?” Her eyebrows rose.
“I’m working on getting a detective business started here.”
She studied me closely. “Are you married? If so, where is your family?”
“My family lives in Kansas.” I tried to keep my voice from betraying the hurt of losing my parents.
“You’re alone then?” She shook her head. “I guess no matter how nice a place is, it won’t take your pain away.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Even after all these months, the ache of their passing was still there. “But thank you for sharing your grief with me.”
She nodded, then glanced up as if she sensed something else. “Oh, I forgot to ask you—do you know a young man named Ben?”
“Ben? No, I don’t know him.”
“He lives somewhere around here, in town maybe?”
I hesitated, unsure of whether I should tell her about his murder or not. “His body was discovered at a construction site yesterday morning.”
Her gaze grew troubled when she heard my words. She seemed to be searching for something on my face, looking for reassurance. “Was it an accident?”
“That’s what the coroner believes, but he didn’t find any evidence to prove that.” I paused and waited for her to say something else. When she only stared at me, I took a breath. “You don’t need to worry yourself over it. The authorities are trying to solve the case. And as I’ve just told you, they have no suspects.”
“Do you think whoever killed him has any connection to my husband’s death? Perhaps they were both murdered by the same person?”
“Perhaps.” My answer wasn’t enough for her, and she pressed again with a question, “How do you know that?”
I explained that I had worked with the sheriff’s office during my time in Kansas. While there, I’d investigated the deaths of some women whose husbands also had been slain. They were all unsolved cases.
“And yet you believe the person responsible for these deaths isn’t dead?”
“We have no idea if the killer is alive or dead,” I admitted reluctantly. “But it doesn’t seem likely to me.”
“Maybe it does.” The woman frowned and stood. “Excuse me for a moment.” She turned to leave the room, then stopped and looked back at me. “You can call me Claire.”
“Thank you.” I rose to join her as she headed into the kitchen. “Claire, why did you ask me if I knew Ben? You already know I don’t.”
“Because I want you to meet him, and I thought he might look familiar.”
I followed her into the small room off the foyer and watched as she pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf next to the refrigerator. “What makes you think he would recognize me?”
“Just tell me where to pick him up.”
***
“Where are you going?” I asked as I got ready for work.
“I’m going to find my son.” Her footsteps thudded down the steps. “You’re welcome to come along. I’ll give you his address, but you won’t be able to stay long. His mother will probably show up.”
“Okay. What about work?”
“There’s no way to contact you unless you leave a message.”
“Fine.” I sighed and sat down on one of the chairs in the parlor. It didn’t take long before I heard the front door open and close. I waited a few minutes, then got up and walked to the window to see if I could spot her car leaving, but I couldn’t tell what kind it was.
I returned to my workroom and called Sam to let him know I wouldn’t be in today because of a death investigation. Then I wrote him a note explaining the situation and left it on top of his desk with the phone number of my cell phone. After that, I checked out the newspaper, picked up an application for a job, and headed back to the main house.
The sun shone brilliantly through the windows as I entered the kitchen and found Claire standing in front of the stove. She had her back to me so she must have seen me first and opened the oven without turning around.
“Did you make breakfast?”
“Yes, I made toast and tea.” She poured coffee into a mug and then added hot water to the teapot. “Will you pour us each a cup?”
“Of course.” I filled the cups and carried them back to the table. She smiled when she saw my surprise at her appearance. Her hair was braided into an intricate style and a blue ribbon decorated the braid closest to her forehead.
“My hair—” She paused, and the corners of her mouth curved upward. “It’s been like this for years now.”
“You wear your hair differently than most women?”
“I guess you could say that. Not many men wear their hair that way either.” She sat down across from me, then lifted the mug of coffee toward me. “Want a piece of toast?”
“Yes, please.”
We ate slowly as we chatted about various subjects. She didn’t bring up the subject of Ben’s death again and seemed more interested in talking about me. When she asked me what I planned to study in college, I hesitated before telling her I hadn’t decided yet. Then she surprised me when she said she wanted to go to college too—to be a nurse.
“That’s wonderful.” I sipped my coffee.
“Is it really?” Claire raised the mug to her lips and took a sip. “You’re not just saying that?”
I shook my head. “No, I meant it.”
She set her mug aside and turned to face me. “You’re very nice, Lillian. And it’s good that you’ve finally gotten yourself out of the bad place you were in when I first met you. You needed to get away for a while so you could sort things out.”
I smiled. “Thanks, but I have to admit that I haven’t done much sorting since leaving Kansas City.”
“Why don’t you try to make some decisions now? That would help you move forward.”
“I suppose it would.” I nodded.
When she rose from the table, I followed her into the dining room where she began picking up books and papers from the table. “I’m sorry about last night,” she said as she straightened a stack of books. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t your fault.” I moved past her and went into the parlor.
“I know it’s not easy to live here sometimes, especially with so little privacy.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
“How long do you plan to stay here?”
“A few days at least, maybe longer if I can make some progress in the case.”
As Claire finished tidying up, I went over to a chair by the fireplace, picked up my book from the floor, and opened the cover. After I started reading, Claire came and sat beside me and pulled her own book onto her lap. “Where did you get this?” she asked.
“The library.”
“They let you check out books?” She looked surprised.
“Yeah, as long as they’re fiction or something else.”
“You read a lot.”
“So does Sam and he’s older than me.”
“What kind of books do you enjoy?”
“Mostly mysteries.”
She gave me a puzzled look. “I thought I knew almost everything there is to know about the Gilroy family.”
I laughed. “Now who’s being pretentious?”
Claire smiled and then glanced down at her book. “I’ll leave you alone for a while so you can finish reading. Then I’m going to make lunch for everyone.”
We ate a simple meal together, which we washed down with glasses of lemonade. As I watched her set the table, I felt like she was trying to get closer to me. But I couldn’t figure out why. Did she still feel guilty about our argument? Or maybe it was because she didn’t want us to be enemies. Whatever the reason, I liked her better now that we were on speaking terms.
After we cleared the table and put away the dishes, I decided to take a walk around the property, which was located on a hill above the main part of town. The house sat atop a small rise, which allowed me to see the street below and the houses in the surrounding area.
I walked past the barn, and my gaze fell on a lone horse tied to a post inside. A short distance ahead of the horse stood two more horses tethered next to each other. I wondered if there were any others in the paddock behind the barn. Maybe I’d find out when I checked with Jake tomorrow.
The sun warmed my skin as I strolled through the trees that lined the road leading toward the front gate and the train station. As I stepped onto the sidewalk, a man in his late thirties wearing dark clothes and riding a black horse approached from the direction of the railroad yard.
I stopped and watched him for a moment. He must have noticed me staring at him. When he slowed to a stop, I recognized him as one of Ben’s friends from his days in Chicago.
“Hello, Lillian,” Jack said as he reined his horse in close to mine.
“Good afternoon, Jack.” I smiled back. “How are you?”
“Fine, thank you.” His eyes roved over me, then he frowned. “It’s unusual to see you here on foot.”
“I rode to town yesterday and decided to walk home instead of taking the stagecoach.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “Didn’t you hear? Two of Ben’s men were murdered last night.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Two of them, a couple of Irishmen who had been living at the boardinghouse for several months.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
He shrugged. “One of those two tried to rob a store owned by an old friend of Ben’s. The man shot one robber but apparently didn’t kill him quickly enough because the other got away.”
“Who killed these robbers?”
“Ben and three of his men. They all returned early this morning to settle things once and for all. That’s why I was headed toward the train station.”
“That sounds pretty drastic.”
“I guess that’s how it was for Ben growing up.”
“Do you think the killings will cause trouble between Ben and his friends?” I hadn’t heard anything about what happened last night, but somehow I doubted that they would be able to solve their differences without killing each other.
“Not really. These weren’t nice people. No one here liked them and most avoided them when they could.”
“Are you talking about yourself?”
Jack shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very friendly. Just like Ben. But I never hurt anyone.”
When I glanced over at him, he smiled. “I might have frightened someone once or twice, just like Ben.”
The memory of his fist coming at my face brought back an ugly picture: his knuckles smashing into my cheekbone. It took a moment for my pulse to return to normal and the pain in my jaw to fade away. I was glad he couldn’t see my face.
A sudden thought struck me, and I turned to Jack. “You’ve been in trouble with the law, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “I spent several years in prison, but that’s another story.”
I looked around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, “Tell me.”
His lips curled in a sneer. “If you’re curious, I’m happy to oblige. Otherwise, forget I said anything.”
With a quick motion, Jack reached for my right arm. He pulled it forward to my chest, then wrapped his hand around the handle of his whip and snapped it against my wrist. Pain seared across my forearm, followed by the burning sensation of fresh blood welling up from the wound. My eyes widened in surprise.
“What did you do that for?” I gasped.
“Because I said so,” Jack replied, his voice filled with anger.
The sting of the lash faded. In its wake, a dull throb pulsed in my arm. I wanted nothing more than to pull my arm free, but Jack gripped my wrist firmly. I knew if I struggled, he’d only wrap his hand around the whip again.
“Why did you ask me that question?” Jack demanded when our gazes locked. “And what is your interest in these criminals? Do you know something you’re not telling us?”
Before I could respond, he released my arm. He glared at me a moment longer, then he swung off his horse. “Come along, Miss Winters. Time for us to go.”
The End