“I don’t believe that.”
She grinned and looked away. The horses were eating, so Clay had already fed them. How long had he been up? Taking a glance around the barn, she didn’t see the old man and asked, “What happened to the man from last night?”
He pointed to the other end of the barn. “He’s still down in the last stall sleeping off his hangover.” He touched her arm when she turned that way and waited until she looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry he came in on you last night.”
She gave him a tiny smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but I’m responsible for you.”
For reasons she couldn’t even name, that statement made her chest ache. His saying that burst her little blissful bubble a bit. Of course, he was only here because Violet and Rose had asked him to escort her to the train station. If it weren’t for that, he’d not even be here.
She smiled at him to cover her disappointment and looked toward the back of the barn. Another set of double doors was open, and she could see a large paddock with a few horses.
A tap on her shoulder drew her gaze back to Clay. He motioned to the opening toward the main road through town, and she saw him say, “Liam needs help with a buggy. I’ll be out front if you need me.”
She watched him go until he rounded the corner, then blew out a breath. What was she supposed to do all day? Heading to the doors, she found a bench outside the barn and sat down. It was odd seeing so much commotion, and she could only imagine how loud a place like this was.
There were people everywhere. Horses and wagons filled the road, and dust hung heavy in the air. The stagecoach was coming into town. She watched it slow down and stop next to the livery stable. She craned her neck, taking in the building and the sign above the door. The Stagecoach Station was all it said. Not a very imaginative name, but it was direct and to the point.
Further down the road, one of the many saloons in town was already bustling with activity. It wasn’t even noon, and men were wandering in and out of them. It may have been because of the several women she saw on the upstairs balcony. They were scantily dressed and calling out to anyone who passed by.
She turned to where Clay and Liam were. Had he seen them? She rolled her eyes at the thought. He’d have had to have been blind not to. Her gaze drank him in as he talked to Liam. He’d removed his coat, the muscles in his arms straining as he helped harness a horse to a buggy, and she wondered what sort of life he lived before coming to Silver Falls.
He’d told her he liked to travel, to see new places, and she was sure he’d been in his share of saloons. Had he visited the women who often worked above them? Would he visit the ones she could see from where she sat?
Movement down the street drew her attention from Clay. Several men were clustered together in front of the saloon, but scattered when someone staggered from the swinging doors and fell off the sidewalk. Another man chased him out, pistol aimed at him.
The first man scrambled to his feet, and even though she couldn’t hear it, she knew the moment the second man fired his pistol. People who were watching the altercation scattered. Others further away stopped what they were doing and watched, until the man who had been on the ground started running her way, the shooter giving chase, gun still in the air.
Someone grabbed her arm and rushed her into the barn. It wasn’t until darkness enveloped her and she couldn’t see outside that she looked at who had pushed her inside the building.
A girl who appeared to be around her same age was staring at the street, lips moving at a fast clip before she started laughing. She turned her head enough to see her mouth and made out the words, gunfight and idiots. She didn’t catch everything the girl was saying, but she’d have to agree with what she managed to make out.
The commotion outside had people running in every direction. She watched from inside the barn and realized things like this never happened in Silver Falls. She could only ever remember two times someone had fired a gun on Main Street.
It had been years before when old man Walter had hit Morning Dove, the young Indian girl who lived with him, in front of the mercantile, and a man from Willow Creek had tried to intervene. Walter had shot at him, and the stranger fired back, but unlike Walter’s shot, the newcomer hadn’t missed.
The second was only a few months ago. A shootout at the saloon left Archie Cline, the owner of the saloon in Silver Falls, wounded, and her sister Violet had to dig the bullet out of him. It had been the most excitement the town had ever seen. Silver Falls was quiet, and she liked it that way.
Clay ran into the barn, his eyes wide and searching. When he spotted her, he blew out a breath, his shoulders dropping as if in relief. “Are you all right?” he asked as he headed her way.
She smiled and nodded her head, then glanced at the girl who had ushered her inside the barn. Clay looked at her, too. Even though he’d done nothing but look toward her, Daisy hated the fact that he’d done it. Pretty, with long black hair and a few freckles dotting her nose, the girl was everything she wasn't. Her eyes were a striking shade of green, and as she started talking to Clay, Daisy knew the girl heard every word he said back to her.
She was the type of woman any man would want. Someone who was whole and didn’t need to be hurried out of harm's way just because she couldn’t hear what was going on around her. Veronica, even though she disliked the girl, would make a better wife than she would.
Clay touched her arm and pointed back outside. “I’ll be out front if you need me.”
She nodded and watched him go. When he was out of sight, she realized the girl was still there.
Daisy smiled at her. “Thank you for guiding me off the street.”
“It. Was. No. Problem.”
She said each word slowly, enunciating the syllables precisely, and Daisy couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t really have to talk that slow. I can make out most of the words you say at your normal talking speed.”
The girl grinned. “Good! Your husband told me you were deaf, and honestly, I’d never get used to talking that slow.”
Heat filled her belly at the words, her husband. Had Clay told her that, or had she just assumed? “We’re not married,” she said, correcting her.
