Chapter Two

Marshal’s Office

Big Bend, Colorado

Mid-November

Cole stuffed the latest reports due to the state office in Denver into an envelope before shoving everything into the top drawer of his desk.

“Hey, Grant, I’m going to make my final rounds for the day. After I grab a bite to eat, I’ll be heading home,” Cole announced. “Are you ready for your first solo shift?”

Grant Peabody sat up straight in his chair, showing youthful enthusiasm for the job he’d held all of six weeks. “Yes, sir, Marshal.”

Cole’s jaw twitched, but he kept his urge to grin in check. “Good. You know where to find me if there’s trouble.”

“I do, but I promise not to bother you if I can help it.”

Taking his black hat from the peg by the door, Cole stepped out into the waning light of day and made his way to Maize’s Café for supper. Ordinarily, he’d cook something up when he got home, but he’d been delayed by an extra set of reports. Now, he was as hungry as a spring bear, and hankering for some of Maize’s famous beef stew.

As usual on a Friday night, the café was packed. Cole removed his hat before taking a seat at his favorite table in the corner.

“Evening, marshal,” Maize said before handing him a list of her specials.

“Good evening, Miss Maize.” He made a quick, cursory glance at the paper she handed him, then told her, “I’ll have the beef stew, an extra biscuit, and a glass of milk.”

The sixty-something café owner chuckled. “You’re going to give those big, tough lawmen a bad name drinking milk instead of something a bit stronger.” She snatched the paper back from his hand. “Just like when you were coming up. Your buddies were drinking ginger beer, and you opted for milk.”

“What can I say? I like milk. And coffee.”

“Yet you never order coffee,” she pointed out.

“Nope, not this late in the day. I want to sleep when I finally get home.”

She nodded and backed away. “One bowl of stew, extra biscuit, and a milk, coming right up. Save room for dessert,” she told him. “I made a batch of peach cobbler.”

The door opened, drawing Cole’s attention. “Hey there, Doc?”

“Evening, Cole,” Doc Whitman acknowledged before asking, “May I join you?”

Pushing out the chair opposite his, Cole confirmed, “Certainly. It’s always nice to share a meal with a friend.”

“Seeing as how you’re here before dusk, I take it your new deputy is on his own.”

“Yep, his first night in charge. Hopefully, he won’t be drumming up any late-night business for you.”

“Let’s hope not. I’ve got enough on my hands with Miss Jillian constantly trying to escape the infirmary,” Whitman explained.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me for a set of shackles.”

The doc nodded in agreement. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“How much longer do you think you’ll have to keep her for observation?” Cole wondered.

“At least until her pressure goes down. If she’d just sit still for a few hours and take her medication, she could be out sooner rather than later.” When Maize laid Cole’s meal down in front of him, Whitman commented, “That looks mighty tasty, Maize. I’ll take a bowl for myself, with coffee to drink.”

“Maybe I’ll stop in at the infirmary for a visit on my walk home,” Cole noted. “Put the fear of the shackles in her.”

“Good luck with that. I don’t think there’s much that scares Miss Jillian.”

“Never has been, as far back as I can remember,” Cole agreed. “She’s a strange one, but with a heart of gold.” Cole bowed his head, said a quick blessing over his meal, then picked up a spoon and dug in. Swallowing the first mouthful of stew, he reiterated, “I’ll make a quick stop. Even if it’s only to make sure she hasn’t escaped.”

“I’ve got help,” Whitman explained. “The reverend’s wife is there now. My nurse starts the overnight shift in an hour or so. After Monday, I expect Miss Jillian will be on her best behavior.”

“Why Monday?” Cole asked around another spoonful of stew.

“Eliza’s coming home from New York. Amanda Peterson wrote to her and told her about her grandmother. She caught a train on Wednesday.”

“The last I heard she was working as a costume designer, along with her performing.”

“She’s become something of a celebrity for her designs for the likes of Adelaide Keith and Mabel McCane,” Whitman told him. “No doubt she’ll cause a stir around here when she arrives.”

Cole bit back an outright laugh. “Eliza’s been causing a stir since she could walk. Why should it be any different now?”

“True enough. She was quite the handful growing up.”

“There was always something about her… a vulnerability… that I thought often caused her to go to the extreme in everything she did.”

“She was too young to remember her mama leaving,” Whitman reminded him. “That doesn’t mean she didn’t think about it growing up. Heaven knows the children teased her about being motherless from time to time.”

Cole thought back about his clashes with the schoolyard bullies. “That they did. She never once let them see how it affected her. Miss Jillian taught her to stand tall and be proud of who she was, and Eliza took it to heart.”

Maize arrived with the doc’s stew, and a second glass of milk for Cole, along with a huge portion of cobbler. “Anything else for you fellas?”

Doc Whitman nodded toward Cole’s dessert. “I’ll have one of those when you get a minute, along with another cup of coffee.”

“How do you manage to sleep when you drink coffee this late?” Cole asked.

“It’s this old constitution of mine. Nothing keeps me awake when my head finally hits the pillow.”

Once he’d finished his dessert, Cole pushed his seat back. “I should probably get a move on it if I’m going to stop in and visit Miss Jillian.”

“Let her know I’ll come by before I go home to make sure she’s taking her pills,” Whitman instructed. “While you’re there, maybe mention the shackles.”

This time, Cole did laugh. Heartily. “And incur Miss Jillian’s wrath? I don’t think so.”

Denver Train Station

Saturday Evening

Eliza accepted the porter’s hand and stepped down to the platform. She stood there for a minute and let the solid ground settle beneath her feet. After four days and three nights, she couldn’t walk without swaying from side to side.

“The carriage will be here in a few minutes to take you to the hotel, Miss Carson,” the porter told her. “Then, they’ll bring you back in the morning for your connection.”

“Thank you, Mister Gobel. You and Mister Teale have been most accommodating on my trip.” She handed the man an envelope with a gratuity inside. “Have a safe trip to your final destination.”

“It’s been a pleasure taking care of you,” Mister Gobel confirmed. “I know there were a few of your fellow travelers grateful for your generosity.”

“I helped where I could. It was the Christian thing to do.”

“Amen to that, Miss.”

The carriage arrived moments later, and Mister Gobel lifted her reticule up onto the seat for her. “Enjoy your visit with your grandmother, Miss Carson.”

“I will, thank you.”

The hotel where she was staying was only a few miles away, but Eliza was anxious to get there. She looked forward to a hot bath and a soft bed before she began the last day of her travels.

“Good evening, Miss Carson,” the man at the desk said. “We have your room ready.”

Caught off guard, Eliza met the man’s solicitous smile with what was, no doubt, a look of surprise. “Excuse me?” She glanced around the lobby, confused. “But… I didn’t make a reservation.”

“We were contacted by your grandmother’s solicitor. He set everything up ahead of time.”

Her grandmother’s solicitor ? Here in Denver ?

“Well then,” she said in resignation. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by anything Miss Jillian does, or how she does it.”

The bellman carried her small bag up the stairs, leading her toward her second-floor room. After unlocking the door ahead of her, he set the reticule on the foot of the huge, four-poster bed. “Would you like to have a late-night meal brought up to the room?” he asked.

Eliza dug into her purse and handed the man a dollar and some coins. “Tea and one or two baked goods would be nice, but not until a bit later. At the moment, I’m in sore need of a hot tub, if you could point me toward the bathing room.”

He nodded to his left. “Your room comes equipped with its own washroom, including a deep tug with hot and cold running water.”

She thought quickly of the shared facilities in her Manhattan rooming house and breathed a sigh of relief. “Wonderful. Please let the kitchen know I’ll take my tea in an hour.”

Backing slowly through the door, he confirmed, “I’ll tell them straight away.” He smiled slightly, then said, “Enjoy your soak.”

Little more than an hour later, Eliza answered the knock at her door and waited while the young girl placed a tray of refreshments on a round table in the corner of her room. “Will there be anything else, Miss?” the girl asked.

“Just a wake-up knock on my door at seven,” Eliza told her. “I don’t want to miss my train home.”

Eliza sank into the comfy upholstered chair and lifted the silver cloche covering her plate. An assortment of finger sandwiches and pastries made her mouth water, and her nearly empty stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since mid day.

She touched her fingertips to the china teapot, welcoming its warmth. A small pitcher with cream and a matching bowl of sugar sat to the side. As fancy as any expensive restaurant in the city, the hotel’s kitchen had gone all out.

Another surprise from Miss Jillian ? Her inner voice reminded her of how little she knew about her own family. She and her grandmother were long overdue for a serious discussion.

Morning light broke through the curtains, waking Eliza up before the hotel’s complimentary notification. She sat up in the bed and pushed aside the unruly red waves of her long hair. She probably should have left it in a chignon atop her head and wrapped everything tightly before turning in. However, the thought of a good brushing had her pulling the pins out as quickly as she could.

Now would come the arduous task of putting everything back in place for the final four hours of her train ride home.

“Good morning, Miss Carson,” the desk clerk greeted when she made her way downstairs. “Will you be having breakfast? Or should I send for a carriage?”

Eliza thought about the hour-and-a-half wait. “Tea and toast would be lovely.”

“Our dining room is just to the left,” the clerk told her. “I’ll arrange for your carriage in forty minutes.”

Seated at a small corner table, Eliza stirred a single spoonful of sugar into her tea before adding a splash of cream. Rather than toast, she’d decided on a lemon scone… something she’d not eaten since leaving Big Bend ages ago. Gram used to make the best lemon scones.

The memory ratcheted up her eagerness to be done with her journey. For a change, she’d be the one taking care of her grandmother, rather than the other way around. She was also looking forward to seeing Amanda again and enjoying one of Reverend Peterson’s rousing sermons.

While she’d done her best to attend services, the large churches filled with people she barely knew weren’t nearly as welcoming as Big Bend United. A smaller congregation, and the fellowship afterward, always gave her a sense of peace.

There were definite advantages to this unplanned visit. Family, friends, and faith would bring a special meaning to the holidays. She was sure of it.