Jodi Thomas - WM 1 Read online

  He smiled. It didn’t matter what happened as long as he found his fairy. The need to see her had developed into an ache in the center of his chest. He told himself that if he saw her, faced her once more, he’d stop thinking about her. He’d discover there was nothing magical about her. She was just a woman, nothing more.

  The only problem was, he knew he was lying.

  CHAPTER 17

  “RAINEY, DEAR,” DOTTIE DAVIS WHISPERED ACROSS the dining table. “Will you help me move something after supper?”

  “I’d be glad to,” Rainey answered and went back to eating. She’d learned the rules of the boardinghouse well. No one, except the two German ladies, talked while Mrs. Vivian was in the room. Probably because the others had also discovered that anything they said in front of the boardinghouse owner would be twisted and handed back to them at a later date.

  Rainey’s first-day comment about not looking for a husband had been turned to “This young lady has no interest in men or in the respectable bond of marriage.” Rainey was sure the Widow Davis’s concern for her being out late the other night while baking had been twisted and repeated to Rainey as “The widow frets over you as if you had no sense at all.”

  Mrs. Vivian was a master at turning a phrase slightly to change the meaning entirely.

  Because the three old maid sisters talked constantly about their shop, which was being built now that the materials had arrived, Mrs. Vivian referred to them as boastful-in-triplicate.

  So all the women living at the Askew House ate in silence when Mrs. Vivian was in the room and whispered when she disappeared behind the swinging door that lead to the kitchen. In a strange way, it bonded them together. They whispered and stifled giggles when they talked like children playing games.

  The stout little woman, Margaret Ann Mathis, who considered herself the leader of the boarders, had gone to San Antonio, leaving one place at the table empty. Mrs. Vivian had agreed to hold her room for a week at half the board fee, but no one seemed to know for sure if Margaret would be returning.

  “Wear your coat,” Dottie Davis whispered the next time she got a chance. “We’re going out.”

  “But Mrs. Vivian locks the door at nine.”

  “Don’t worry, I know another way out and in.”

  Rainey giggled. She felt like they were planning a prison break.

  “Slip down to my room after nine. There is no sense going until she’s in bed. The danger will be getting out and back into this house, so if you change your mind, I’d understand.”

  Rainey knew, as they all did, the rules of the house. If they were caught, they’d be kicked out. Though, with the three sisters leaving within the month for their apartment over their new store and the German coming after his family tomorrow, Mrs. Vivian might find her house empty if she did make Rainey and the widow leave.

  “I’ll be there.” Rainey smiled at the widow. Over midnight tea and coffee the two had become friends. They often played poker with the kitchen’s dried beans and laughed the next night when their winnings were served at dinner.

  Mrs. Vivian came in to collect the serving plates, and they were silent for the remainder of the meal.

  Rainey vanished up to her third-floor hideaway and read all three of her letters from Travis while she waited. He’d written about the law, about the boy, and finally about himself. She read her favorite line one more time.

  Sometimes, when I think of you, it is more like I’m remembering a dream than something that truly happened. Then I think of how you felt against me. How soft you were. How warm. I know that you had to have been real, for not even imagination could create such perfection.

  Rainey laughed. She could never imagine her Ranger saying such things to her. But he’d written them . . . he’d written them to her. And that was enough.

  Leaning back on her bed, she forced herself to return to the real world, knowing that he would always be a part of her daydreams.

  She hadn’t baked pies today. In fact she hadn’t even gone to the mercantile. Though Pearl and Owen always welcomed her, Rainey knew they needed time alone. So, on days she didn’t bake she tried to stay away, not even dropping by to do her books. Today had been cold and cloudy, forcing her inside with nothing to do. She’d sat in the drawing room for a while. The sisters were already taking orders for dresses, and some of the richest women in Austin were calling. Rainey enjoyed the chatter, but in the end she’d spent most of the day sleeping in her tiny room. There, all alone, she could pretend that someday she’d have a life with Travis. She knew he’d never marry someone he considered to be a thief, but there was no harm in pretending.

  A little after nine o’clock, Rainey hurried down the stairs to the widow’s room, ready for an adventure.

  They didn’t say a word as Dottie slipped on her black coat and motioned for Rainey to follow her to the back stairs. The kitchen was dark except for the warm glow of a banked fire. They moved silently across the floor to the washroom. Mrs. Vivian’s slave did most of the cooking and all the laundry, so this was one room the owner of the house never went in.

  The washroom smelled of lye soap. Several bags of laundry were stacked beside the door. “Mamie?” Dottie whispered. “Mamie, you still up?”

  Mamie appeared and lit a candle. She looked about to drop with exhaustion most nights and tonight was no exception.

  The widow turned to Rainey. “A few days ago I learned that Mamie has been taking in extra laundry at night. A whole bag for a dime. She does it after Mrs. Vivian goes to bed. She’s hiding the money and planning to buy her freedom. Of course if Mrs. Vivian finds out, by right she can take the money.”

  Rainey didn’t comment, she wanted to say she knew how Mamie felt, but in truth Mamie had it much worse. Though Rainey’s father sometimes hit her mother, he’d never laid a hand on her. She’d seen Mrs. Vivian strike Mamie more than once in anger, and she often loaned her out to neighbors when she didn’t think Mamie had all the work she could do.

  “There’s a free man who works for the blacksmith over on Sixth where Mamie takes a pot now and then to be repaired. He wants to marry her, but Mrs. Vivian says he’ll have to buy her first.”

  Mamie held up her blistered, swollen hands. “I can’t wash as much as I could. Miss Dottie is plannin’ to help me so I can be with my man.” Her brown eyes filled with tears. “I told him I’d sneak out and lay with him, but he wants to jump the broom with me making it all right and proper.”

  Rainey looked from Mamie to Dottie. “What can I do to help?”

  The widow nodded and moved further into the laundry room. “We’ll be back in no time, Mamie. You make sure this window isn’t locked when we return.”

  “Don’t worry none. Mrs. Vivian don’t ever come in here.”

  Dottie stepped up on a low stool below the window. She pulled her hood over her hair and slipped out the long narrow opening without a sound. She seemed to disappear into the night.

  Mamie handed Rainey her navy cape. “I got this for you from the front hall. I figured you’d be needing it. Anybody within a mile could see that yellow hair of yours even if there’s just one slice of moon left. You pull up that hood good, child.”

  Rainey circled the cape over her shoulders and head as she slipped out the window. To her surprise, her foot touched another stool on the outside of the window, making the escape easy.

  It took her a few seconds in the dark alley to make out Dottie’s form. Once she nodded, the widow began to move along the alley, staying close to the wall. They crossed a street and entered another alley, then another.

  Rainey’s senses came alive in the blackness. She heard the sound of music and laughter, and then shouts. Between the buildings came the noise of the night, the odd mixture of barking dogs, babies crying, and horses galloping. Bits of conversations drifted to her from open windows.

  Dottie linked her arm in Rainey’s, grounding her, and whispered, “When my husband died, his partner claimed he couldn’t afford to give me half the worth of
the saloon and restaurant they owned together, so he split the place and closed off the restaurant. He said it was mine, but I couldn’t run it alone, and because my husband loved it so much, I couldn’t sell it. What the partner didn’t know was that I worked there some at night before my Henry had to take a partner. I knew what lay hidden in the cellar.”

  “You were a barmaid?” Rainey would never have guessed the widow to be anything but a proper lady.

  Dottie shook her head. “I ran a gambling table in the back of the restaurant. Only a high-stakes game a few times a week.”

  Rainey thought of about a hundred questions she’d like to ask, but this was not the place, so she picked just one. “What’s in the cellar?”

  “Wine,” the widow whispered. “Twenty-dollar-a-bottle wine. I can’t very well pull up a cart and unload my half. The partner would never allow that. But if we can take a few bottles at a time, I know a man who’ll buy them, and the money can go to Mamie. One bottle will be worth more laundry than she could do in a month. I wouldn’t bother to collect it for me, but for Mamie’s freedom, it’s worth the risk.”

  In the third alley Dottie stopped at one of the cellar doors. “If it worries you that someone might think we’re stealing this, I can do it by myself. All you have to do is be lookout so I don’t come up from the cellar and stumble into a drunk. And with two bottles in my hands, I’ll need some help with this heavy door.”

  “I’m with you.” Rainey decided this was far more fun than borrowing a horse. She didn’t want to consider the fact that she might be turning toward a life of crime.

  Dottie pulled a key from her pocket. “I kind of forgot I had this after my husband died.” She slipped the key into the lock and turned. “Lucky for me so did the partner. He hasn’t bothered to change the lock.”

  The cellar door creaked as they lifted it only enough to slip inside. Dottie went first, then Rainey. The stairs were made of dirt with a few bricks shoved into places where rain had washed out what had been a rough step. As Rainey lowered the door closed, total blackness surrounded them.

  Rainey was afraid to move. All her life she’d hated total darkness. When her father had taken away her candle at night, she’d cried for weeks and screamed for her mother. Her mother never came, and finally she’d learned to curl up into a ball and survive the night. But she never lost the feeling that something waited in the blackness only inches away. Something evil.

  “Put your hand on my shoulder and follow me down,” the widow whispered.

  Rainey felt for Dottie’s shoulder. At first there was nothing and she was a breath away from panic when her fingers finally connected with the widow’s coat.

  One step at a time they moved. The smell of dirt surrounded them, closing in as they lowered into the basement. Rainey felt like she was descending into a grave. A thin lace of spiderwebs brushed past her cheek, and she heard something far bigger than a spider scamper out of their path.

  Dottie heard it, too. The widow was shaking so badly Rainey could feel it through her clothes. “There’s as many rats down here as there are upstairs,” she mumbled to herself.

  When they reached the floor of the cellar, Rainey let out a breath and heard the sound echoed by Dottie.

  “I know where the wine is hidden. It’s only three steps away. If you’ll stay exactly where you are, I’ll get the first bottle and hand it back to you. If I only get two bottles, no one will notice. Then, to get out, all you’ll have to do is turn around and go back up the steps.”

  Rainey nodded, then realized it was a waste of time. “I won’t move until you return,” she whispered. It took all her strength to let go of Dottie’s shoulder.

  “Hum,” Dottie whispered. “So I won’t lose my direction.”

  “Hmm, hmm.” Rainey couldn’t think of anything to hum. Not one song came to mind. “Hmm. Hmm.” She sounded more like she was snoring. She giggled, then covered her mouth and tried to stop giggling long enough to hum. “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm,” she tried, sounding flat and toneless.

  Dottie’s soft laughter came from a few feet away. “Stop laughing or I’ll hit you with one of the bottles,” she threatened through her own giggle. “If I ever find one. The stash is not nearly as big as it was when my husband lived.”

  Rainey closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn’t standing in a cold damp cellar.

  It didn’t work.

  She tried humming again but couldn’t manage to carry a tune. After a few minutes she could stand the silence no longer. “Dottie,” she whispered. “Dottie, are you all right?” Surely if the widow fell over something, Rainey would have heard the crash. “Dottie?”

  Rainey considered running, but in the blackness it was hard to tell where the stairs were. Had they stepped one or two steps across the floor? If she moved and guessed wrong, she’d be lost down here with the rats until dawn. Or until someone came down from above, and she didn’t even want to think about what the partner would do if he found thieves in his wine cellar.

  “I got one,” Dottie whispered. “Hold out your hand.”

  Rainey did, waving her hands slowly through the thick air.

  A bottle tapped against her little finger a moment before she gripped it solid in her hand. “Got it.”

  Dottie’s hand let go of the other end of the bottle.

  Rainey waited again, hugging the wine against her.

  “I’ve found another. Now, let’s get out of here. I think I can make out a tiny bit of light where the cellar door didn’t close completely.” Dottie brushed against Rainey as she passed, and Rainey raised one hand to her friend’s shoulder. As before, Dottie lead the way.

  Within minutes they were back in the alley and retracing their steps. As before, they stayed well out of the light. Rainey counted her breaths until they were back at Askew House. Dottie passed the wine to Mamie and slipped through the window of the laundry room. Rainey handed over their treasure and followed. As soon as she was standing inside the laundry room, the two women hugged wildly, laughing and talking at the same time.

  Mamie made tea and wanted to hear every detail of their adventure. They talked for an hour, then hid the bottles amid the stacks of dirty clothes and said good night.

  As they climbed the back stairs, Dottie thanked Rainey. “I’ll sell the bottles next week. If it’s not enough to buy Mamie, are you willing to go with me again?”

  “Yes,” Rainey said without hesitation. “I’ve never had so much fun.”

  Dottie laughed. “I owe you one. Next time you want to commit a crime, just let me know and I’ll go with you.”

  Rainey hugged the widow good night and climbed on to her room. Once she was in bed, she smiled, thinking that for the first time in her life, she had friends.

  CHAPTER 18

  AS HE DROVE THE WAGON TOWARD AUSTIN, TRAVIS tried to think of the test he would take when he reached the capital, but his thoughts were full of the fairy. He relived every word they’d said to each other a hundred times. He thought of the way she’d felt, the way she kissed him, the way she jumped into his arms that first meeting as if she were his.

  He remembered her letters, realizing he no longer had to look at them because he knew every word. She’d talked of her dream of starting a school someday, and she’d talked of how she thought of him, but she never talked about herself.

  He spent hours thinking of what he’d say to her when they met. Assuming she was there and hadn’t moved on. For all he knew she’d borrowed someone else’s horse and ridden farther south. Texas was big enough that she could disappear, and he’d never see her again.

  No, he corrected, they would meet again. She’d been in Austin when she’d written the last letter, and if she was there, he’d find her. Austin couldn’t have more than a thousand people. Over two hundred of those were slaves, then well over half of the others would be men. Eliminating children, that left only a few hundred women to sort through to find a woman whose name started with R. She would be there and he would find her even if he had
to stand on the street corners and stare at every person who walked by. He’d seen her real hair only once, but he remembered the sunny color. Of course she could have that hidden behind a bonnet, or be dressed like a boy again. For all he knew she had other wigs in a rainbow of colors.

  But if he could touch every woman, he felt sure he’d know the feel of her.

  He laughed. If he tried that method of identification, he’d be arrested.

  Travis groaned. If he didn’t stop thinking about her, he’d need to stop off at the new asylum being built and check himself in. The woman who signed her letters with an R. was driving him crazy. If he’d heard one of the younger Rangers going on about a woman so, he’d be tempted to shoot first and apologize later.

  Sage leaned from the back of the wagon, where she and Duck had been sleeping on one of the buffalo hides. “You want me to take the reins for a while? I don’t mind. Is your leg bothering you greatly?”

  “No,” Travis answered the last question first. His leg ached, but that wasn’t his real problem. He was an idiot, driving to Austin, when he should be home healing, to look for a woman when he didn’t even know her name.

  He smiled back at his sister. “I’ll handle the team a while longer.”

  Sage settled back down beside Duck. The journey to Austin hadn’t proven near as exciting for her as she’d hoped, but Sage, as she always did, made the best of it. She’d drawn in her sketch book and mapped out roads in detail. Travis wasn’t sure she did the drawings because she was bored, or because she planned to someday make the journey alone. He thought maybe she just wanted to make sure she could find her way back home. He’d felt like that the first time he’d left Whispering Mountain.

  For all of them, Whispering Mountain was the center of the world. No matter how far he roamed, he always knew how to get home.