“Put that thing away,” Edward said in a voice so deep Garret swore he felt the floor shake as he glared at the pipe. “Smoke is not good in a sickroom.”
“Fine, fine,” Garrett muttered as he shoved the pipe back in the hard, brown leather satchel.
Most people would look at Edward and assume he was a brawler, that he beat up five men for breakfast and another ten before lunch. While it was true Edward could be a brute on the battlefield, at his core, he was as kindhearted as any man Garret had ever met. Lady Uriel used to say that Edward was born with the body of a warrior, but the heart of a poet.
Walking over to the sleeping woman’s side, Edward let out a soft sigh. “She is so beautiful, as golden as the dawn, but also as fragile as a crystal dove.”
Staring out the window, Garret looked out into the still busy evening streets and the constant rumble of wagons to and from the slaughterhouses. There was a frosty nip to the air, so even the soiled doves selling themselves had covered up their assets with thick shawls. Resting his hand on the cold glass of the window, Garret mulled over what to do.
Edward’s voice carried over the snapping of the fire in the hearth as he said, “The big oak tree near our house put out a lot of acorns this year. You know that means a bitter winter is on the way. Not to mention the thick ruff the neighbor’s cattle are growing around their necks.”
Both Garret and Edward had been born into farming families and carried the superstitions of their fathers. “True. The sky felt heavy today, and I noticed on our ride out the squirrels were looking fat.”
“Indeed,” Edward grunted. “I fear if we stay here more than a few days, we might be stuck in Butte for a good while. We need to get back to our home and our flock. Besides, we have supplies that our neighbors are waiting on, like a crib. I don’t think Molly’s baby is going to wait for spring thaw to arrive.”
Coming to a decision, Garret stood straighter as he turned, his arms behind his back almost in a parade rest position. “In the morning, as soon as the stores open, I need you to go out and buy whatever a lady might need for the winter. Clothing, soaps, perfumes, books—”
“We don’t know if she can read.” Edward gently took her hand in his own, cupping it as if he was holding a butterfly. “Look at her hands. This lass has worked hard for a long time. You don’t get these kinds of calluses overnight.”
“Then we’ll teach her to read,” Garret said impatiently. “It is our privilege and duty to make sure she is comfortable and content. To see to her every need.”
“Aye,” Edward nodded as he gently ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’ll take care of it. We made a good profit this year off our wool and sheepskins. I’ll make sure the lass has what she needs.”
“Good.” Sitting back in his chair, he glanced at the clock above the hearth and sighed. “Do you want first shift? We’re going to need our sleep.”
Edward rose from the sleeping woman’s side and stretched out, then cracked his thick neck. “Go ahead. I’ll stay with her.”
A knock came from the doorway, and he opened it to reveal the young maid from earlier. As she slipped quietly into the room, she waited until the door was closed to turn and face them, her hands twisting nervously in her white apron. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, then looked over at Rowan’s sleeping form and lifted her chin.
The maid’s voice had a faint tremble as she said, “Sirs, please forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I have some news that you might be interested in regarding your safety.”
Garret frowned at the nervous woman, but he kept his voice gentle. “What is it?”
Nearly shaking now, the woman whispered, “My brother, he’s a good man, but he loves his whisky and fell in with a bad crowd. Specifically, with a man named Mr. Charles, who is,” she paused and said in a louder voice, “well, he’s a no good rotten bastard who preys on the weak and innocent. My brother came by earlier, looking for two men and a boy that fit your descriptions. Evidently, the men he’s looking for got into a fight with Mr. Charles earlier, so he is offering a goodly sum of money to anyone who can find you—errr, them. It might be best if you got out of town as quickly as possible.”
Edward rose from the bed and came to stand next to Garret. He kept his voice low as he said, “Tell me about this Mr. Charles.”
She did, and the news was not good. Mr. Charles basically ran the corrupt half of the town, buying those he could, blackmailing those he couldn’t, and ruling over the city’s criminal elements. The maid didn’t know how ‘Roger’ had gotten mixed up with him, but Garret had a fairly good idea and it wasn’t pleasant. Either way, by getting in a fight and wounding Mr. Charles and one of his thugs, they’d painted huge targets on their backs, and Mr. Charles wanted revenge.
Bustling around the dinner cart, the maid glanced over at the sleeping mystery woman and said, “I know it’s none of my business, but if I were you, I’d get out of town and on the road as quickly as possible. I’d like to say you’re safe here, but Mr. Charles has eyes and ears all over town. Some of the staff would be tempted by the money he’s offering to find you.”
Reaching into his pocket, Garret took out a few bills and handed them to the protesting maid, “No, please, take it. If what you’ve told us is true, you may have just saved our lives. If anyone asks, just tell them we’re two ranchers from Idaho in town to do some business.”
The maid slipped the carefully folded bills into her pocket with a quick nod. “If anyone asks, I’ll be sure to tell them that. Now if you’ll excuse me, sirs, I need to get back to my duties before the head housekeeper starts to wonder where I am.”
With the dishes rattlingly lightly on the wheeled serving cart, the maid left and only the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth filled the quiet air.
“Well,” Edward finally said, “this complicates things.”
“If what the maid said was true, and I have no reason to doubt her, we don’t have the luxury of waiting a few days for our mystery guest to get stronger. We’ll have to do the best we can to make her comfortable in the back of the wagon, and try and put some distance between ourselves and Mr. Charles. Once we get to Bridgewater, we’ll be safe.”
“The sooner the better,” Edward agreed. “I don’t think Mr. Charles got a good look at us in the alley. It was too dark, but eventually he will find us, and I’d rather not face him and his army of thugs with just the two of us.”
“If we leave in the middle of the night, it will seem suspicious. We’ll stick out on the roads leading out of town like a sore thumb with our wagon. Better to leave in the morning and not draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves after we get some supplies for ‘Roger.’”
“I’ll be glad when she wakes up,” Edward said as he looked over his shoulder at her, “so we can learn her real name.”
“And how she got mixed up with Mr. Charles,” Garret said while he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.”
Edward placed a chair underneath the door handle with a grim look. “I doubt Mr. Charles would be brazen enough to try and attack us here, in this nice hotel in the good part of town, but you never know.”