“Is that a good idea?”
“No harm thinking about it.” When he saw her lip curl, he said, “Of course I’m not going to sell it. He as good as said he doesn’t need it so I figure it’s one more way he’s up to something. You know what I saw him doing when I was up top of the falls?” Since she didn’t appear to want to guess, he went on. “Picking wildflowers. Can you believe it? He was picking posies.” He shook his head as ifhe still couldn’t believe it and chuckled under his breath. “It was a sight, I can tell you.”
“And you didn’t shoot him. Wonders abound.”
“Thought about it, but I wasn’t outfitted properly. I only had my Peacemaker with me. Anyway, I’d already had a look around and there was nothing to find to point to Pye’s killer.”
There was nothing Desiree wanted to say, know, or listen to regarding Josey Pye. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Don’t you have anywhere else you’re supposed be?” she asked. “It’s not Sunday, you know.”
“How about another go?”
“Show me your money first. I have to make a living.”
“Damn, but you’re a hard woman.” Carter sat up and put his legs over the side of the bed. He stretched his arms wide and arched his back. Standing, he pulled his pockets out to show her they were empty. “I handed over what I had to Mrs. Fry.”
“That’s too bad because I don’t do credit.”
“That’s not what Pye told me.”
“Get out, Carter.” She pointed to the door. “We’re not done, not by a long chalk, but I can’t stand the sight of you right now. Respect that, will you?”
Carter looked her over. “Never really occurred to me that you had feelings for him. I thought for sure you were using him, same as you use every other man who gets a hankering for what’s between your legs.”
Desiree set her jaw and kept her finger pointed at the door while Carter put on his gun belt and jacket. He took his sweet time for no other reason than he could and she waited him out. It wasn’t until the door clicked into place that she allowed herself the luxury of tears.
37
The afternoon stage from Denver carried four passengers, a mailbag, and a short stack of papers from theRocky Mountain News. Brady was the whip again and he was glad to give up his seat to the station’s last driver as his lumbago was bothering him worse than a hot poker stuck in his back. He emptied his mailbag on Laurel’s desk before he went to join the passengers and his shotgun at the dining table.
He eased himself into a chair and let Mrs. Lancaster fuss over him when she realized he was in pain. “You’re a good woman, Mrs. Lancaster. I surely appreciate you.”
She blushed a pretty pink and set a cup of coffee in front of him. “I’m going to get you a packet of powders that will ease your back some. No laudanum. I know how you feel about that. And I have a bag that I can fill with hot water. You put that up against your spine when you lie down and you’ll be at peace long enough to get some sleep.”
Laurel’s attention was elsewhere but she heard enough snippets of their exchange to be intrigued. Perhaps she could give the cook a taste of her own meddling medicine and see how that went down. Smiling to herself, she nodded in response to Alexander Berry’s query about the Cabin Creek Trail.
The government man’s arrival was a surprise to everyone. Laurel was a bit annoyed with Sam Henderson for not wiring her that Berry was on one of his stages. Shewould have appreciated having a little notice so she could prepare.
“I have plans for improvements to the station after you approve this route,” she told him. “I’m going to add a restaurant that can accommodate the number of railway passengers we can expect to pass through. I want to increase the size of our garden, raise a larger variety of vegetables to meet people’s tastes, and add to our livestock. You should know that I’ve heard talk about a hotel in town for folks who want to stay over a day or two. I’m also willing to put up a water tower for the railroad’s use. This would be a fully functional station.”
“A water tower?” Berry nodded thoughtfully. “You have been thinking about this.”
“Of course.” Laurel held his gaze, careful not to look away. Alexander Berry had a shadowed stare because of his deeply set eyes. His brow was high and wide, and ever since she’d known him, his sandy brown eyebrows appeared perpetually raised as if he were in a state of constant curiosity or mild surprise. He had a friendly smile, one that seemed authentic, not practiced. Laurel remembered what Call had told her about Berry’s personal interest in her and wondered why she had never noticed it herself. It was difficult to see because he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and she found that to be an attractive quality. Perhaps Call had mistaken the matter.
“The railroad can’t follow the trail through town as the stage does,” Berry said. “Have you considered the best route around Falls Hollow? You must know the Hammersmiths have no such problem. The countryside is wide open. If there’s going to be a town, it’ll grow up around the railroad.”
Laurel did not show her alarm. Her voice remained soft, carefully modulated. “Falls Hollow can contribute labor to the effort. The railroad will have easy access to a food supply for the laborers. We have an excellent water source for the tower the engines require. Proximity to Falls Hollow is not a liability for the railroad. It benefitsboth parties. I hope you are considering that in your determination.”
“I’m considering everything.”
She nodded. “As for the route that needs to skirt the town, I believe it would be better to put down rails immediately south of Falls Hollow. Trains would stop here at the station and then cut a diagonal that would take them behind the town and through the valley. I’m no surveyor, but I’ve ridden that way dozens of times and it’s an easier grade back out of the valley. I can show you, if you like.” She saw he was considering it. “Perhaps on your return from Stonechurch.”
“I’m not going to Stonechurch. This is the end point of my journey. I came here to speak to you.”
“Oh.”
“I know Mr. Stonechurch’s views. He’s been openly in favor of the rails passing this way. I wanted another opportunity to hear what you had to say. That gentleman working for Mr. Stonechurch—”
“Mr. Landry.”
