Deadlier Than the Rest Read online

  It was a clear night. She could make out several constellations. Her brothers used to point them out to her when they crept up to the roof of their boarding house and watched stars shoot across the sky. She thought of Connor and Pierce every day, wondering how they were and if they ever thought of her.

  Meggie filled two buckets of water from the pump, then started for the house. Jeremiah kept telling them he would install plumbing for the kitchen, but so far, he’d made no progress. The women still hauled water in buckets and heated it on the wood burning stove. At least there was a roof over their heads. There’d been many times when there wasn’t.

  “You sure are taking your time, girl.”

  Meggie cringed at the grating voice behind her. She hated it when he snuck up behind her, as he often did. She didn’t respond, ignoring him as she continued toward the kitchen.

  Jeremiah picked up his pace, coming alongside her, but didn’t say another word or offer to take one of the buckets. Instead, he pulled out a small cigar, lit it, and looked through the window at the women inside. His women.

  “I’ll get the door, Meggie,” Ada said from her seat at the kitchen table. She was five years older than Meggie, and trapped. Although Ada was of the Mormon faith, she didn’t believe in plural marriages. She wanted away from Moser, despised her life, but didn’t have the courage or money to make a run for it—not with a young daughter.

  Grace was Meggie’s closest friend. At least she had been before she’d snuck out late one night, leaving Meggie behind. She’d been gone for months. It still hurt to wake up each morning knowing Gracie wouldn’t be there to talk with, share their mutual disgust of Jeremiah, and plot their escape.

  The door opened and slammed shut indicating Jeremiah had entered the house. He walked up behind Meggie, slipping his hands around her waist, pulling her against him. “When’s supper?”

  Meggie jerked, trying to pull away. His grip tightened.

  “Not long. Why don’t you wash up?” Nina attempted to draw his attention to her.

  She knew the young woman didn’t appreciate Jeremiah’s attentions the way Nina did. She didn’t hold it against Meggie. Her husband believed in the plural marriage doctrine. His brother was a leader in the church and encouraged Jeremiah to take more wives. It was the way of it.

  “Hold off a little on it. Meggie and I have some things to discuss.” Jeremiah wrapped a hand around Meggie’s arm, pulling her behind him out of the kitchen, and up the steps to his room. He was a big man, over six feet tall, with muscled shoulders, and thick arms. Grace once said his hands were as large as bear paws—beefy, and rough. He wasn’t unattractive with his square jaw, straight nose, and brown eyes. Jeremiah was fastidious in his appearance and well-read. Educated enough that he knew just how to make a woman do what he wanted without leaving a bruise or mark of any kind.

  He pushed Meggie ahead of him into the room and closed the door. He pulled his suspenders off his shoulders, unbuttoned his trousers, and let them fall as he walked up to the bed. “Now, girl. You know what to do.”

  ******

  Grace wiped her hands on the already dirty apron, grabbed more dishes, and began to scrape off dried food. Work at the busy restaurant was hard but it included a small room, food, and a few coins each week. If she did really well, the owner, Jasper Bing, would slip her an extra coin once in a while. He was a nice man in his fifties, a widower, and he treated everyone with respect.

  “Another order,” Jasper called to the cook. “Three of the specials.”

  The hour was late, Grace was exhausted, and hoped her day was over. It appeared not.

  “Grace, I need to step outside. Would you mind serving the men when their food’s ready?” Jasper asked.

  “Yes, I can do that.” She was a mess and the last thing she wanted to do was go out front to deliver food.

  Her arms filled with plates, Grace walked into the dining area. It wasn’t hard to spot who the food belonged to—there was only one occupied table. Three men were huddled, talking in quiet tones even though the place was empty.

  “Your food, gentlemen.” Grace placed the meals in front of them and waited as the men continued their conversation, ignoring their supper and oblivious to her presence.

  One noticed her and looked up. “You want something, sweetheart?” His eyes roamed over her—from her dirt-encrusted shoes, to her dirty apron, and back up to her face—a slow perusal, not truly suggestive, but it made her squirm regardless. His gaze locked with hers and held.

  Grace was surprised at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were moss green with small flecks of golden brown. They were beautiful, captivating. She felt her skin warm and noticed the beginning of a smile on the man’s face. She forced herself to look away.

  “Um, no. I didn’t know if you wanted anything else.”

  The man stared at her another moment, as if making a decision of some kind. Thankfully, another man broke the silence. “No, ma’am, we’re fine for now.”

  She looked at the three again, nodded, and returned to the kitchen. When she peered back through the door, the man with green eyes was still watching.

  “So no one offered any information on the man at all?” Roy Crowley asked drawing everyone’s attention to the reason they met. He was in his thirties, had been in law enforcement his whole life, and now worked for Louis Dunnigan, a businessman out of Denver.

  “Not in so many words, but I swear five or six recognized the drawing. They know him. I’m certain of it.” Connor was frustrated but understood this was a long process. He knew those of the Mormon faith were loyal to their own. At the same time, they were good people—given time, someone would come forward.

  “Anyone in particular you got a sense knows the man?” Fred Helms was in his mid-forties, with dark hair greying at the temples. He’d planned to retire a couple of years ago, but everything changed when his wife died.

  “A couple, but one in particular.” Connor thought of Parley Smith and the way the man had been so open, until he’d seen the drawing. “Smith’s his last name.”

  Fred let out a slight chuckle. “Son, most everyone around here’s named Smith, is a Smith relation, or knows a Smith. You got a first name?”

  “Parley.”

  “All right, so Parley Smith might know the man. Did you get the name of any others?” Roy asked as he scribbled on a pad of paper.

  “No. They were all tight-lipped. I’m going back in a few days to another meeting. Maybe I’ll have better luck.” Connor ate in silence but kept his eyes on the kitchen door, hoping she’d walk out. Something about the woman caught his interest. There was no obvious reason why she should. Although pretty, the woman wasn’t anything remarkable, not like some of the beauties from his past. But damned if he didn’t want to get another look at her.

  “The new U.S. Marshal just got to town. He doesn’t know many people yet, but he’ll keep an eye out for us. He’s got his hands full with the new legislation about plural marriage. Don’t know if he’ll be much help.”

  “You know him, Fred?” Roy asked.

  “Nah, he’s way too young for me to have known him,” Fred grumbled and finished off the last bite of supper.

  Connor pushed back from the table and threw some bills down for the food. Fred grabbed his wrist.

  “Put it away, MacLaren. All this is on Dunnigan. Will be until you find your sister.”

  Connor looked at Fred and picked up the money. Dunnigan sure was paying on their agreement. Much more than Connor had ever expected.

  Chapter Two

  Grace sat on the bed trying to work out the kinks in her back and shoulders. She’d waited in the kitchen until all three men had left. Thankfully, they hadn’t requested anything else which saved her from dealing with the handsome stranger whose eyes drew her in. She’d never experienced anything like it—disturbing yet exciting.

  It was a blessing that no one else came in because she was spent. She’d started at six that morning and it was now eleven at night.
Too long of a day, and she had plans that needed her attention.

  Grace laid her head on the pillow. She had nowhere near enough money saved up for a new start in a different town. South somewhere seemed the best—New Mexico or, maybe, Arizona. She could get lost in either state. Just not California. No, that’s where her family had moved to years ago.

  She’d loved her mother and older sister, but her father was a cruel man, and not in the same way as Jeremiah Moser, her husband. Moser was Mormon by birth, not by choice. He used to tell her the only thing he got from his faith was the right to marry and bed more than one woman.

  Grace placed an arm over her eyes and tried to relax. She hated when thoughts of her father or husband stormed her mind. Her father had married Grace off to Jeremiah when they moved from Salt Lake to Stockton, saying he didn’t have enough money for another mouth. She was the youngest of two children, and in her father’s mind, the weakest. Grace knew better.

  Her mother and sister had fought for her, but he’d been adamant. Once Father made up his mind there was no changing it.

  At first she’d thought her father had provided her the freedom she craved, that he had done her a favor. That is until the first night in Jeremiah’s bed when he laid down the rules and instructed her in what he wanted.

  She’d never been with a man, other than the few kisses she’d shared with a young farmer before her father had decided to move on. Her mother had told her what to expect just before Grace’s father had pulled her mother away and pushed her into their wagon.

  Grace did as he asked but found him repulsive. There was no love and she didn’t believe in his ways, his faith. She wanted to live her own life, on her own terms, not under the thumb of a man who repelled her. Grace rebelled at the physical contact. It had taken days to recover from the painful experience. She didn’t rebel again. Instead, she spent all of her time preparing for her escape. Now she had another plan in mind—one that would be much more dangerous to her and others.

  ******

  Meggie lay in bed, sick and disgusted. Jeremiah had been rough tonight, more so than normal. She’d been so sore she missed supper, telling Nina that she didn’t feel well. Nina and Ada knew the cause. Their common husband didn’t take out his particular needs on his first or second wife, or on Grace. No, he saved them all for Meggie. Grace had been his preferred bedmate before she’d run away. Now he fixated on Meggie.

  It was a cold night. She pulled the thin blanket around her, lay on her side, and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her body was tired but her mind wouldn’t still. At least she had a private room. Jeremiah made sure each wife had her own quarters, that way he could visit whichever one he wanted without disturbing the others.

  She stared out her window at the clear sky, remembering the night Carter’s men had grabbed her. It had been a long journey to where Carter had ordered them to take her. They’d stopped several times, but she never saw anything familiar. Her hope of being discovered in the back of the wagon decreased as night turned to day, then day back to night. Early the next morning they’d arrived at their destination.

  Herm Carter had been a surprise. His men were rough, dirty, and unpleasant. Carter was well dressed, a businessman who lived in Philadelphia and dealt in people. He’d taken one look at Meggie and decided to hold onto her until the time was right. She was beautiful, he’d said, and a virgin, which meant he could get more money for her. However, he had another client in mind. One who preferred a woman with experience. Carter had chuckled. Well, she did have experience.

  Meggie had cleaned and cooked in Carter’s home for months while he waited for the client to visit Philadelphia. Her birthday had come and gone—she was now seventeen. If she’d been with her brothers there would have been a celebration. Not much, but something to remember. This time it passed without a thought.

  It was rare that she saw the man who held her prisoner. Someone was assigned to her each day, from the time she woke until she crawled into bed. No one touched or threatened her. It was a constant state of limbo, one that caused more confusion than worry.

  One evening there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Carter.

  “Hello, Meggie. If you’ll come with me, there is a gentleman I’d like you to meet.”

  She knew the time had come and, with all the courage she possessed, followed him downstairs. Carter opened the door to his study and stood aside for Meggie to enter. She walked in and stopped. Two men sat in large leather chairs, smoking cheroots, and sipping what she assumed was whiskey. They turned at the sight of her and stood.

  “Mr. Jackson, Mr. Delaney, I’d like you to meet Meggie.” That was all Carter said before he left her alone with them and closed the door.

  The one introduced as Mr. Jackson walked up to stand a foot away. His eyes roamed over her, from top to bottom. “Turn around please, Meggie,” he said. She turned her back to him, and heard a soft chuckle. “No, turn all the way around, in a circle.”

  Once the circle was complete he turned to his friend, Mr. Delaney, to whisper in his ear, then looked back at her.

  “Please, have a seat. I have some questions for you.”

  She sat on the window seat, as far from both men as she could get without leaving the room.

  Eugene Jackson and Dodge Delaney looked at Meggie, then each other. With her back ramrod straight and hands folded in her lap, she looked more like a school girl than the experienced woman Carter had described.

  “How old are you, Meggie?” Eugene asked.

  “I’m seventeen.”

  “Are you from here?”

  “No, Red Hook. Is that near here?” she asked. Neither men could miss the hope in her voice.

  “No, it’s a long ways from here,” Eugene replied, puzzled by her question.

  “Oh. I wasn’t sure but thought it might be far. I can’t see the ocean like from home.” The sadness in her voice cut through both men.

  Eugene had acquired women from Carter before, but all were older than seventeen. He’d set them up in a small house near his estate until he tired of them, then he’d provided each with an allowance and freedom. The women were experienced, knew the rules, if you could call them that. This one didn’t look like she knew a damn thing.

  The door opened and Herm Carter strode back into the room. “Well, Mr. Jackson, do we have a deal?”

  “Are you quite sure she’s experienced, Carter? You know my thoughts on this.” Neither Eugene nor Dodge had ever taken up with a married woman or an innocent. They led simple lives. Ran their estates down south, or what was left of them, gambled, drank, took care of their people, and each kept a paramour. No wives and no commitments. Neither had the slightest interest in love.

  “Would I say so if it was otherwise?” Carter replied then looked at Meggie. “Would you call yourself experienced?”

  She looked from one man to the next before her eyes settled back on Carter. “Yes sir. I have experience.”

  “You see, gentlemen, it’s as I said.” He sat down behind his desk. “So, do we have a deal?”

  Eugene still felt uncomfortable, but she’d said herself she had experience. Who was he to call the lady a liar? Besides, she was one of the most beautiful young women he’d ever seen. Breathtaking would be the word he’d use. And she’d be more so once he took her home and bought her new clothes.

  “Yes, we have a deal.”

  Meggie had listened to the conversation but instead of her eyes following Eugene Jackson, they stayed fixed on Dodge Delaney. She’d never had a beau, but if she had, she’d want him to look just like Delaney.

  ******

  The sound came from a long ways off. Meggie curled up tighter in the covers. The noise persisted. “Meggie, you up?”

  Meggie’s eyes flew open. Bright light streamed into her room indicating the morning was half over. She jumped out of bed and grabbed her dress. “Yes, I’m up, Ada. I’ll be right down.” She’d fallen asleep on thoughts of Dodge. Such a long time for th
e memories to remain so fresh.

  She dashed into the kitchen, thankful not to see Jeremiah. “Where is he?” she asked Nina.

  “Still in bed. Should be down anytime.”

  “Be grateful for it while you can, Meggie,” Ada said.

  “The girls?” Meggie asked.

  “Oh, they’re fine. They finished breakfast a couple of hours ago and have been outside ever since.” Ada continued drying dishes as she spoke.

  It was Meggie’s job to roust and feed the three girls each morning. After that they’d play until she was done with her other chores and had time to school them. Jeremiah didn’t like the school in town—he wanted to keep everyone close to home, and now that Grace was gone, Meggie was the only one with much education. She was also the only one, besides Jeremiah, who could read.

  “Thank you.” Meggie placed a hand on Ada’s arm and squeezed. “He would be furious with you if he knew I wasn’t up to take care of them.”

  Ada smiled as she handed Meggie a plate with eggs and bacon. “Eat up. I have a feeling the day’s going to be real long.”

  ******

  “Coffee, mister?” Grace asked, then took another look at the man who’d just taken a seat. Her heart picked up a beat and she found herself taking a small step away.

  “Yes, please,” Connor said. “Ah, the lady from last night, correct?”

  “Yes, sir, I was here last night. I’m usually here each morning and night,” she answered, filling his cup quickly before moving on.

  Connor watched her walk from table to table, talking to each customer, smiling and laughing. She had a beautiful smile, one that lit her face, crinkling her eyes. And her hair. He’d noticed it last night—fiery red, with streaks of gold. It was the kind of hair made for running your hands through. Connor shook his head and turned his attention back to the drawing he’d placed in front of him. He’d eat, then start showing it to anyone who’d look. Connor folded the paper and placed it in his pocket.