“Watch your tongue, young woman.” She lifted her chin but kept her mouth shut. “If you need to visit the outhouse, just let one of us know, and we’ll take you. I’ll bring you some water so you can wash up and your bag so you can put on some decent clothes.”
“I’m not wearing those tacky clothes. They’re awful.”
Royce couldn’t restrain the snarl that rumbled from his mouth. “You’ll put them on, or I’ll put them on you. You’re not going to display your wares like some common strumpet.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” He scratched his chin and made a slow perusal of her body, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “From what I can see from here, it would indeed be a pleasure.”
Chapter Three
Royce opened the cell door and tossed the carpetbag on her cot. “You’ve got five minutes to change into one of those dresses.” He turned his back, and she yanked the dress that buttoned down the front out of the bag and slipped it on over her clothes.
“I’m finished.”
He turned around. “Good.” His eyes surveyed her from head to toe. “Come on, I’ll take you to the outhouse.”
“I think I can find it on my own.”
His grin made the dimples pop out in his cheeks. The sight fascinated Texanna, making her wish circumstances were different. “I just bet you can, but it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to allow you to go outside unescorted when it’s almost dark.”
She watched as he coughed into his hand. “Plus, I figure you’d want me to check for snakes before you go inside.”
Was he trying to scare her? Probably, but she wasn’t going to take a chance. Kicking her skirt out of her way, she left the cell. He took her elbow and escorted her past the empty cells to another steel door.
****
Royce left town shortly after nine. The sun had set, taking most of the day’s heat with it, yet the air remained heavy with humidity. His mind flashed over the previous few hours. He’d grieved for Pearl for four years and accepted the fact she was dead. It was time to live again, find someone else to love.
His attraction to the woman who called herself Texanna was undeniable, everything about her—her scent, the tilt of her chin, and her persnickety attitude, called to his masculinity. Her manner of dress and vulgar mouth appalled him. He wanted to take her across his knee and wail the daylights out of her. He shifted in the saddle. Hell, he should’ve gone to Josephine’s earlier. Then he wouldn’t be as randy as an old goat.
He stopped by Aggie’s and went inside to get Garrett. His son slept in the bedroom next door to Aggie’s. He scooped him up, carried him outside to Samson, and stepped back up into the saddle. Garrett stirred, grinned at him, and mumbled in his sleep, “Hi, Pa.” Then he quieted again.
Aggie, dressed in her robe and gown, followed him outside and handed Royce a bundle of clothes. “Lots of talk going around about the woman from the train. Is she your wife?”
With a sigh, he tilted his hat forward and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish I knew for sure. She looks like Pearl, but acts different, like she’s from another country.” He’d have to make a decision soon. She couldn’t roam the town telling wild stories about time-travel. She’d have to be watched closely until he solved the mystery. Keeping her close would let him decide if she was his wife or an imposter. The idea she’d time-traveled was cockeyed. He’d never believe such nonsense.
“If she’s suffered abuse, she’s gonna be some different, but her underlying nature will be the same. Give it some time.”
He nodded. “I expect I’ll know soon enough. I’ll bring Garrett by in the morning. Good night, Aggie.”
She waved from the porch. Rather than ride back up to the road, he cut across the field between their houses, a path worn from constant use. The moon shone brightly, giving Samson enough light to maneuver safely.
Before rubbing down Samson, he took Garrett upstairs and tucked him in bed. He sat for a while and looked down at his sleeping son, smoothing the hair back from his forehead as he did so. His little face echoed his own features, but his smile was Pearl’s. He needed a mother, one to cuddle him and teach him how to be tender and loving. A father could only do so much in that area. The boy longed for brothers and sisters. If he had anything to do about it, Garrett would have them in time.
Royce lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. If Texanna was his wife and he denied her, he’d never forgive himself. Then again, if he claimed her and she wasn’t, was a thief, a prostitute, or worse, a murderer, he could be putting Garrett in danger. Hell, what was he talking about? He’d be in more danger than Garrett. She’d probably murder him in his sleep. Truth be told, he didn’t sense she was a threat. He’d come up against enough evil to recognize the signs.
How on earth had she thrown him on his butt tonight? Good thing Pete was the only one to see it. Jason would ride him for months. He shuddered at the thought. Nah, he wouldn’t. He’d get ribbed enough himself about what she’d done to his arm. Where on earth did she learn to do those things?
God, what a mess. What kind of man couldn’t identify his own wife?
Before dozing off, he made up his mind. Texanna’s story about time-travel and delivering a message from his wife was too crazy to be true. Plus, she had no proof. He snorted. How could a person prove something that wasn’t possible?
She did wear the locket he’d designed for Pearl and the wedding ring he’d put on her finger. The letter dated 1940 was too close to her script for him to easily deny. Could this be an elaborate ruse to cover up what she’d done to survive? Had she been abused, forced into prostitution or worse and was now afraid of his reaction? He’d never hold those things against her. He’d help her recover. God, what if she was crazy? He’d see she got good treatment, find a private treatment place for her.
If it turned out she wasn’t his wife, he’d get to the bottom of where she’d gotten Pearl’s things. She could’ve found them somewhere. Just because they were in her possession didn’t mean she’d murdered his wife. Hell, maybe she was his wife and in a few days or weeks she’d say or do something to give herself away one way or another.
Tomorrow he’d bring Texanna home, but he needed a plan.
****
Texanna tossed and turned on the hard cot, the God-awful dress causing her all sorts of discomfort. The long skirt tangled around her legs constricting her movement. She’d put the dress on but kept her jeans on underneath and her tennis shoes. Swaddled in two layers of clothes, she felt like a roasting duck, a self-basting one as sweat covered her body. Without a breeze in the small hot cell, it felt like an oven.
Before he’d left, Royce escorted her to the outhouse. She’d refused to go in without a light, so muttering angrily he’d marched her back inside to get a lantern. That’s what he got for scaring her with his remark about snakes. After a thorough search for spiders, she used the stinky place and exited.
Finally, exhaustion set in, and she dropped off to sleep. She woke to the sound of a rooster crowing and lay still trying to figure out where the heck she was. The brick wall several inches from her nose wasn’t familiar. Then it dawned on her and she groaned. Nineteenth-century Waco, Texas. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Someone watched her. She could feel their eyes and the tension in the room. She rolled over and stared into a pair of blue eyes on the other side of the bars. For a minute she thought it was Royce, but on closer inspection saw a younger version. It was the young deputy whose arm she’d hurt yesterday.
“Who are you?” He had to be a relative of Royce’s.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m your brother-in-law, Jason. Don’t you recognize me?”
She sat up and studied him. He was a good-looking kid, tall and thin, hadn’t put on the muscle his brother carried. “You know I don’t.” He didn’t say anything, just stared. “How’s your arm?” She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but fear made her irrational.
“A bit sore, but I’ll live.”
“I’m really sorry. In a week, it’ll be good as new.”
He shrugged. “You’re not my sister-in-law, are you?”
“What has Royce told you?”
“That you claim to have traveled back in time to deliver letters from his ninety-four-year-old wife.” He snorted. “Never heard such a cock and bull story.”
She stood up and lifted her skirt so he could see her shoes. “Look at these. Have you ever seen shoes like these in your lifetime?” She bounced for him a couple of times. “Best running shoes money can buy.”
He looked at her as if she’d grown an extra head. “I admit they’re weird looking and quiet when you walk.” He cleared his throat. “And you bounce real good, but that doesn’t prove anything.”
Arm stuck through the bars, she said. “How about this watch? Runs off a battery, you never have to wind it.” She shrugged. “Of course, you do have to buy a new battery on occasion.”
He ignored her comment, scratched his chin, and studied her face. “You’re either crazy as a loon, or a shyster. Whichever, I don’t give a damn, but I want you out of this town. My brother’s just got his feet back under him, and some kohl-painted, opportunity-seeking woman is not going to mess that up.”
Hands on her hips, she sputtered. “Look, I don’t want your brother or to be here in this one-horse town. It’s hot, dusty, and smells like horseshit. And I hate these clothes.” She kicked the skirt out of her way as she paced the small cell.
His jaw tightened. “You’ve got an ugly mouth on you, ma’am. The Pearl I knew would never use vulgarity. And she’d never strut around in her chemise and men’s pants.”
“May be, but the Pearl I know does, or I should say did when younger. She’s pretty much wears loose dresses and pant suits now.”
He watched her for several minutes, a variety of emotions transforming his face. Something was on his mind, and Texanna didn’t think it’d be long until she found out what.
He stood up and approached the bars. “A train leaves for San Antonio at eight o’clock this morning. I want you on it and out of my brother’s life.”
Hope lodged in her throat. “I don’t have any money for a ticket.”
“I’ll buy your ticket. Listen, and listen to me good. Don’t ever come back, else I’ll make your life a living hell. I’ll prove to Royce what a lying conniving bitch you are.”
“Now wait a minute. I’m not a liar, and did not invent this situation. I’ve said nothing but the truth.”
He held up a hand. “Save it for someone else.”
Fine, she’d leave. There was nothing she wanted to do more. But, she owed it to Pearl to make sure Jason understood the danger Royce faced.
“All right, I’ll leave on one condition.”
“Don’t see as you’re in any the position to bargain.” He rocked back on his heels waiting for her answer.
She ducked her head to hide her expression, sat back down on the cot, and folded her arms across her chest. “I can refuse to leave.”
His young face hardened, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening. Evidently, the young deputy had seen enough of life to embitter him. “What do you want?”
“Promise you’ll look after Royce. Sam Bass and his gang—”
He snorted in disgust. “I know...Sam Bass and his gang will attempt to rob the First National Bank of Waco in early August. Royce will be killed.”
She nodded.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. But you don’t have to worry, we Dysons always watch out for each other. Now get ready to leave.” He took a woman’s tattered straw hat from the potato sack on the floor beside his chair. “Put this on.”
She took it and settled it on her head. When she got home Pearl would get her ears scorched. The outfit she wore was humiliating.
Texanna heard Jason talking to the other deputy. “Pete, I’m gonna take the prisoner to the outhouse. When I get back I’ll go to Maybell’s and get her some breakfast.”
“Good.” Texanna peeked through the steel door left ajar. Pete folded his arms over his chest and grinned. “I’m hungry as a bear. Soon as our shift is over, wanna catch some breakfast together?”
“Sure thing. Be back shortly.”
Jason opened her cell door. She grabbed the carpetbag and followed him out the back door. “Go around the corner of this building and head straight for the depot. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. Try not to be noticed.”
She nodded.
“I’ll go back in and leave by the front door so Pete won’t be suspicious. Wait for me on the bench on the track side of the station.”
****
Royce heard the train whistle as it headed out of town, puffs of black smoke billowing behind it as it traveled south. It was on time this morning. Over breakfast, with Garrett chattering like a magpie, he’d decided Texanna would stay here until he decided what to do. For safety’s sake, Garrett would stay with Aggie until he knew what the hell was going on. Josie, the old horse they hitched to the buckboard, plodded along behind as he rode into town. She’d be plenty safe for Texanna to ride home. He tied her and Samson to the hitching post in front of the jail. Inside Pete sat at the front desk, feet propped up as usual.
“Morning, Pete. Any problems last night?”
“Nothing but the usual, a few fights at the saloons. At Hans’ place, Hans used the butt of his shotgun on the brawler’s heads and locked them in the back room. Guess he didn’t want to lose their business. The other two were down at the Reservation. I rattled their noggins’ a mite and gave them a good warning.” He coughed. “Didn’t want to put them in the back with the Missus. Wouldn’t be decent.”
“Good decision. Appreciate your consideration.”
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “At least somebody around here was thinking about the poor woman.”
Royce ignored him. “Where’s Jason? Surely he hasn’t left already.”
“Nope. Came in from checking on the prisoner and headed for Maybell’s to get her some breakfast.”
“Good. Think I’ll go in and check on her.” The steel door stood ajar. From the entry way he could see the cell was empty. He swung around. “Where the hell is she?”
Pete stood up, stomped to the door, and peeked in the cell. He pointed. “Right there the last time I saw her.”
“Exactly when was that?”