“I’ve never been so happy in all my life. Mary, meet your new brother-in-law.”

  Katy’s laughter rang out when Mary drew in a gasping breath of surprise.

  “You’re married?”

  “Yes.” Katy raised her eyes to Rowe’s smiling face. “I let him talk me into it.”

  Rowe’s deep chuckle mingled with Katy’s light laughter and his arm tightened, drawing her closer to him.

  “That isn’t the way it was, sweetheart, and you know it. Mary, she saw that all the women in Virginia City were after me and was afraid I’d get away, so she married me.”

  “Garrick Rowe! You’re lying again!”

  Mary looked from Rowe to Katy as if she could not believe what she was seeing and hearing. Katy was radiant with happiness, Rowe’s face creased in smiles. Mary’s heart was filled with thankfulness that her sister, who had given up so much for her and Theresa, had found happiness.

  “You two have a lot of explaining to do.” She tried to make her voice stern and failed.

  “Mary, I’ve got so much to tell you.”

  “And I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

  “We had races and a ballgame.” Theresa hung on Katy’s hand. “We had Fourth of July, Aunt Katy. Uncle Hank stayed all night. He and Mamma slept—”

  “Theresa!” Mary’s hand flew up and covered the child’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” Mary’s face turned first white and then red as a beet. “Oh, my God,” she whispered brokenly. “I didn’t know she knew—”

  “Sweetheart,” Rowe’s voice broke into the silence that followed. “I’ve got to get up to the mine. I’ll stop by the hotel and ask Mrs. Longstreet to fix up the upstairs front room for us to use for the time being.”

  “Can’t we stay here with Mary? We’d have to eat all our meals at Mrs. Chandler’s.” Katy looked at Mary for approval, but Mary still had a stunned look on her face and tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

  “If that’s what you want to do and Mary doesn’t mind, it’s all right with me. You two figure it out.” He bent his head and touched his lips lightly to hers. “I’ll unpack the horse. I think I saw something in there for Miss Sugarplum.”

  “Something for me?” Theresa squealed.

  “You’re the only Miss Sugarplum I know. Stay here on the porch while I get the pack and we’ll see what we can find.”

  Katy looped her arm in Mary’s. “I’ve so much to tell you, you won’t believe it all. You’ll never guess who I saw in Virginia City. Mara Shannon, her husband, and their little girl.”

  Mary, mortified into silence, walked numbly into the house. When she turned to look at her sister, she burst into tears.

  “Oh, Katy. I’m so ashamed. At the time . . . it seemed so natural and beautiful. I had no idea that Theresa knew. Hank left before daylight—”

  Katy put her arms around her sister. “Don’t take on, Mary. You love him, don’t you? Rowe said he was sure Hank had fallen in love with you.”

  “I do love him and he loves me. But we’re not . . . married, and Theresa may have told everyone—”

  “Who would she have told beside Julia and Laura? I’m glad for you and Hank. He’s a staying man, Mary. He’ll not leave you and Theresa and go off looking for a rainbow.”

  “You . . . didn’t like him. You said so before you left.”

  “I said a lot of stupid things because I was so mixed up and fighting my love for Rowe. He was so straightforward with his feelings that I got my defenses up and balked. That’s the only way I can explain it. We’re going to stay here and build Trinity into a regular town. You and Hank will be here too. Oh, Mary, things have turned out wonderfully for both of us.”

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-three

  Trinity, July 15, 1874.

  So much has happened since my last entry in this journal. I am now Mrs. Hank Weston. Hank and I were married in Bannack on July 10, 1874. We were gone two days and two nights. It is wonderful knowing I have a strong man beside me. He is so good and so loving. He dotes on Theresa. I’m going to have to talk to him about spoiling her. He loves to hear her call him Papa. I am so happy that it scares me. While we were away, Rowe fixed up our old cabin for him and Katy to live in temporarily. The first night Hank and I were home we were shivareed by almost every one in town. Rowe made certain things didn’t get out of hand. The noise didn’t let up until Hank shoved some money out the door and sent them all up to the saloon.

  The mine has been closed down. The men are using this time to get houses ready for their families. They are excited about being reunited with their loved ones and are working like beavers. Rowe expects the first train of wagons with materials for the mill to arrive in a few weeks. They want to get the building underway before winter.

  There has been some trouble. Art Ashland got into a fight with one of his freighters and beat him senseless. Hank said that Art is smitten with one of the girls at the Bee Hive but she will have nothing to do with him because he was drunk and rough with her. After he went to sleep she hit him in the head with the heel of her shoe and kicked him out of the bed. He had a terrible headache. Hank and I had a laugh about that.

  Mr. Longstreet has gotten awfully thick with two drifters who seem to me an unlikely pair for him to choose for friends. Rowe gave them jobs cutting timber along the creek where the mill will be located. They are quarrelsome and Hank would just as soon be rid of them, but right now they need every man.

  We are going to have a church and a school. The minister who married Hank and me talked favorably about coming here to Trinity and building a church next spring. Katy has taken a count from the men who have families coming, and there will be sixteen children of school-age here this winter. Rowe is going to build a schoolhouse and Katy will teach them. She has already ordered slates and books. Rowe is so proud of her.

  Katy told me about Rowe’s half brother being in Virginia City and how he has always hated Rowe because his father married a foreign woman. Katy and Rowe are waiting to hear from Anton, hoping that Justin Rowe has left to go back home and will not try to cause trouble here.

  In Virginia City Nan Neal walked down the boardwalk toward the bank about the time Oscar Gable would be leaving to go to dinner. The town was alive with rumors about Justin Rowe and his visits to the Doll House on the hill. Nan had decided to find out what Oscar knew about it in case there was something she should pass along to Rowe.

  “Oscar! Oscar, honey!” she called when she saw the pouchy figure come from the bank. You fat fart—she murmured under her breath even as she smiled and waved—I’d like to poke you in the gut with the end of my parasol.

  “Did you call me, Miss Neal?” Oscar thought surely he was dreaming. This lovely creature he’d yearned for so long had actually called him honey.

  “Course, I did. I missed seeing you at the Opera House.”

  “You did? I only missed one performance, Miss Neal.”

  “I’m used to seeing you there and I don’t like it one bit when you’re not in the front row.” Nan tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and smiled sweetly, all the time thinking what fun it would be to kick his dinger, that is, if she could find it beneath his doughy belly. “What’s kept you away from me? Important business, no doubt,” she said trying to stifle the giggles.

  “Well, I guess you could call it that.” Oscar beamed and patted the hand in the crook of his arm as he looked about to see if anyone noticed who was holding onto him.

  “Was the business with that important-looking man I saw you with? He looked like an Easterner.”

  “He’s a friend from back East. A financier. We may do some business together.”

  “How wonderful. Are you selling him something or is he selling you something?”

  “No, nothing like that. I . . . may go back East with him.”

  “I don’t want you to go!”

  “Well, it won’t be for a while.” Oscar’s chest swelled and his heart thumped so hard that he could hear it in his ears. Trying desperately to think of something that would keep her walking beside him, he said, “I’m a little worried about my friend. He’s been going to the Doll House.” He leaned his head toward hers and said the last in a low and confidential tone.

  “The Doll House? Oh, Oscar dear, you should tell him to stay away from that place.”

  “I have, uh . . . Nan.” Oscar was floating along the walk. He never dared hope he would be walking with her like this, much less hearing her call him dear. “I told him that woman was dangerous, but he keeps going back.”

  “It was sweet of you to warn him. It’s a pity, is what it is. You know all she’s after is money.” Nan hung her parasol over her arm and clung to his with both hands.

  “I’m afraid so. He was in the bank this morning and drew out a huge sum.” He put his head close to hers again and whispered. “We both know what it was for, don’t we?”

  “Surely he wouldn’t give it to her for that!”

  “That’s just what he’s going to do. He’s been there every night for two weeks. She’s got him so befuddled, he’d give her ten years of his life for . . . you know—”

  “Yes, I know. Oh, what a pity!” Nan exclaimed and pulled her hand from his arm. “I’ve got to go, Oscar darlin’. Will you come to the Opera House tonight?”

  “Will you look for me?”

  “I always do.”

  “I’ll be there . . . sweetheart.”

  The adoring look on Oscar’s face turned Nan’s stomach. Oh, yes, she murmured to herself as she walked away. You’ll be there with your hands in your britches as usual . . . you dirty old son of a bitch!

  Nan waited in the millinery shop until Oscar went into the eatery on the corner, then went out a side door and walked quickly up the outside stairs to Anton Hooker’s office.

  On the desk where Anton was working were several neat stacks of papers. He was busy with pen and ink and didn’t hear Nan open the door but he looked up when she closed it. She came to the desk and peered over his shoulder.

  “I always did want to do that.” She laughed, and it was so infectious that Anton found himself smiling. “It looks like chicken scratchings. Can you read it?”

  “My penmanship is not the best, but I can read it.”

  Nan shook her head in wonderment as she ran her fingers along the bindings of the books lining a shelf.

  “Can you read all of these, Anton? Rowe can read French words on the bill of fare at the Star. He told me that I should learn to read.” She sighed. “Someday I will—when I get time.”

  Anton took off his wire-framed spectacles, placed his pen in the coiled wire holder, and put the stopper in the ink bottle while he waited for Nan to tell him the reason for the visit. Anton liked Nan because she was what she was and made no pretense to be otherwise. For all her lack of education, she was said to have amassed a considerable amount of money and was careful with the management of it. Anton respected her for that too.

  “Rowe said to come to you if I found out anythin’ at all about that brother of his. The man’s an asshole even a turd would despise.”

  Nan liked to shock a man as serious as Anton. Her eyes twinkled as she waited to see his face turn red. It didn’t. Anton looked up and grinned. He had been around the world, and it took a lot to shock him, even words such as these coming from such a pretty mouth.

  “My thoughts exactly, Nan. What’s he up to now?” Anton wiped the lens of his glasses with a cloth and put them on again.

  “He’s been to the Doll House every night for two weeks. The Doll fed him one of her famous potions to make him horny as a two-peckered billy goat for a night or two to keep him coming back. Oscar Gable just told me Justin took a lot of money out of the bank this morning. If I read that right, the Doll now has him hooked on dope.”

  “It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving soul. I don’t care if he sinks in the privy hole up to his ears as long as he stays away from Rowe.”

  Nan shrugged.

  “Maybe he’ll get so crazy he’ll blow his stupid brains out. The talk is that his wife spends her days and nights in that room at the Anaconda. People at the hotel say she’s a nice lady and he treats her like dirt. They feel sorry for her.”

  “Rowe said the same. I’m thinking she could use a friend.”

  “Maybe so, but it won’t be me, Anton. Women don’t like me and I don’t like them!” Nan bent over and peered into his face. “You’re kind of handsome, Anton, even with glasses.”

  “Thanks,” he said drily. “I wonder why the marshal doesn’t do something about the Doll House. Everyone knows that it’s more than just a whorehouse.”

  “There’s no law against what she’s doin’.” Nan lifted her shoulders again. “The men get what they want. The Doll gets what she wants. And maybe the marshal gets what he wants.” She tapped Anton lightly on the nose with her forefinger, then headed for the door.

  “Thanks for the information, Nan. I’ll pass it along to Rowe.”

  “Give him my love.” She grinned impishly, tossing her head so that her midnight black curls danced around her face.

  “I’ll do no such thing. You get to messing around with Rowe, and Katy will wipe the floor up with you. She’s not a weak-kneed woman and she’ll not put up with much. I think you’d like her.”

  “I would not!” Nan denied staunchly. “I hate her because she got Rowe.” She sniffed dramatically, jerked her chin up and grinned. “Bye, Anton. You’re sweet, but at times you’re as dull as shit!”

  Anton chuckled. “Bye, Nan, if you had any heart left, I’d come courting.”

  After Nan left, Anton leaned on his elbows and thought about what she had told him. He already knew Justin spent his nights at the Doll House. Anton had seen him coming down the hill, scarcely able to climb the back stairway of the hotel. The Anaconda, like other buildings along that side of the street, had been undermined by floodwaters and was supported by stilts all along the rear.

  What worried Anton was the fact that Justin’s actions were not predictable. He had expected him to hire thugs to stop the supply wagons from reaching Trinity, that is, if he knew about them, or set into motion a legal bid to deny them cutting rights on the land they had leased. Anton suspected that Justin might hire someone to waylay and ambush Rowe. Rowe thought so too, and that was why he had been so anxious to get Katy out of town.

  As far as Anton knew, Justin spent his nights in a drug-induced stupor. From what Rowe had told him about the man, this was entirely out of character. One thing was sure: the Doll would bleed the sap for every dollar she could get out of him. That prospect didn’t bother Anton in the least, but he did have a halfway guilty feeling about not offering his assistance to Justin’s wife. Rowe had said she was a nice woman who had risked a lot to warn him of Justin’s threat to kill him. Anton decided he owed her something for that.

  That evening he stood in front of the newspaper office and waited for Justin Rowe to leave the hotel. A dollar here and there slipped into the hands of the underpaid hotel help that afternoon had bought quite a bit of information about the Easterner and his wife. Many rich and influential people had stayed at the Anaconda, but none had stirred as much curiosity as the Rowes. Justin’s nightly trips to the Doll House were freely discussed and chuckled over. His arrogance had not endeared him to the people who served him. The hotel help felt sorry for his wife, but none respected her for staying with him and taking his abuse. Anton intended to offer her his help. If she turned it down, at least his conscience would be clear.

  It was almost dark when Justin came out of the hotel and walked quickly up the street. Anton followed him and watched as he slipped into a dark passage between two buildings, cut across a weedy patch bordering the livery, and hurried up the road leading to the Doll House. Anton turned back, entered the Anaconda, and spoke to the clerk.

  “I’m going up to speak with Mrs. Rowe. If Mr. Rowe should come back, delay him and send someone to warn me.” He placed a silver dollar on the desk.

  The grinning clerk picked up the dollar. “He won’t be back until dawn. He’ll have a grin on his face like the wave on a slop bucket, and he’ll be so bleary-eyed he’ll not be able to see straight.”

  “What room?”

  “Front left.”

  A few minutes later Anton tapped softly on the door. “Mrs. Rowe,” he called when she didn’t answer after several raps.

  “Who is it?”

  “Anton Hooker. I’m Garrick Rowe’s friend and partner.”

  “I . . . can’t see you right now, Mr. Hooker. I’m indisposed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No. But thank . . . you.” The voice that came through the door was hoarse and strained.

  “Mrs. Rowe?”

  Anton waited. When he heard no reply, he turned and headed back down the narrow hallway.

  “Mr. Hooker—”

  Anton turned. The door had opened a few inches. He retraced his steps and stood before the door, peering into the darkened room.

  “Mrs. Rowe?”

  “Come in, please. I’m . . . sorry—”

  Anton stepped inside. “Do you mind if I close the door? I’m perfectly harmless.” He tried to make his voice light. “Rowe, that is Garrick, said he mentioned me to you.”

  “Yes, he did.” The woman stood at the far end of the room. He could see that she had something draped about her shoulders. “What do you want?”

  “I came to see if there was something I could do for you.”

  “It’s nice of you to inquire . . . and I appreciate it, but—”

  “Have you had supper?”

  “I usually have something here in the room.”

  “I’d be honored to take you over to the Star restaurant on Jackson Street. They have a broad selection on their bill of fare.”

 

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