James waited in the parlor for his mother. There was something about Mattie O’Sheay, formerly known as Martha Harding. He couldn’t picture her as the murderous type some of the folks in Georgia had spread around after her husband was killed. In fact, he wondered why a few of them would make such an accusation.
Even the sheriff in Chickamauga expressed bewilderment by their responses. He shook his head in utter disbelief. Her family fell toward the respectable, well liked amongst every one they knew. Why would the people who killed her husband commit the heinous act? What had he done to them to chase Mattie all the way to Texas? Or was it the other way around? He had seen the anger in her eyes when she first arrived. Did her anger burn so deep that she was willing to commit murder herself?
Mattie had taken on the responsibility to help his mother without much coaxing. Whatever she was hiding under that head full of beautiful auburn hair dimmed the brightness of her sky blue eyes. His heart raced at the memory of her kiss.
She had been hesitant at first. When she fell into his arms, he couldn’t resist. The aroma of the rose soap filled his nostrils. Her body fit so easily against his. On the spur of the moment, his lips itched with anticipation to capture hers. He never meant for it to happen. Now that it had, he sure wasn’t sorry for it. Guilt of thinking Mattie was a new prostitute in town ate at his mind. Whatever she was here for definitely was not to become part of Nelda’s girls. There was a passion, a longing of desire, in her eyes deeper than any soiled dove could reflect. The taste of her sweetness brought about a promise of adventure until she broke away.
“James? James?” His mother’s voice broke into the fantasy his mind was trying to lead him on.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I was thinking about our lady with the problem.” He waved his hand in the air casually.
“I can see that. What do you think we should do to help ease her along?” Rose poured two cups of tea and handed one to James.
“If I knew what the problem was, I could come up with a solution. I have played her case over in my mind so many times I have become too familiar with the circumstances, and I’m missing something.” He shifted the correspondence letters he received from the sheriff in Chickamauga.
“Maybe she was threatened by the killers. James, you have been in the business a long time and have always been a patient man. Why change now? Is it because you have been bitten by her beauty?” Rose raised an eyebrow.
“Mr. Bagwell has tossed her into a scandalous ordeal.” He rubbed his chin.
“Have you talked to the man about why he is so interested in her?”
“I have seen him conspiring with two new couples in town. The Howards and the Fraziers. I believe they are all here under the same pretenses. I don’t see a connection between them and Mattie.”
Rose stood. “Whatever it is, son, you will find out in due time.” She strolled to the door. “Good night, son.”
“Good night.” James turned to the window, pulled back the curtains, and peered out at the endless sea of stars on a backdrop of pitch black.
He waded through the murky confusion cowering in his mind. “Mattie, what am I going to do with you?” he whispered to the stars.
He recalled how her skin was soft beneath his calloused palms. The smell of roses floated from her hair, seizing the opportunity to imprint her nearness in his brain. There was a softness in her voice when she spoke. It was as if she would reveal some secret and James wondered what was plaguing her.
How could he look after her if she refused to let him near her broken soul? Sadness penetrated the depths of her blue eyes without so much as a clue as to how he could mend her shattered life. He shook his head and let the curtain fall back in place. Dousing the lantern, he left the office and made his way up the stairs to his room.
Tossing and turning, he lay on the bed. Sleep came in intervals, waking him at all hours. Exhaustion crept in to steal fitful dreams he wanted to end.
They were staggering dreams of Bagwell hunting Mattie as if she were a small deer in the woods. Dreams where the gunshot rang out were so real he couldn’t stop the pounding in his chest, her screams unquenchable by waking to escape. Thoughts of Bagwell’s hands touching her, cruelly, rudely taunted his anger until he could no longer stomach the man.
He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Walking to the washbowl, he dipped his cupped hands in the cold water and tossed it on his face. If it was a nightmare for him, there was no way to know how Bagwell affected Mattie.
“Mattie, please trust me. I can’t handle it if you snap. What are you capable of?” He whispered in the cold stillness of the night.
****
Well-rested, Mattie breezed through the day on a feather-light heart. She had peaceful dreams of James that left her feeling safe. His lingering kiss, still fresh in her mind, chased the edge off the tasks she performed all day. She didn’t even object to doing the laundry, except for the devouring feeling of eyes settling on her every move.
At supper, Mattie listened to the chitchat around the long table. It seemed to be a good day for everyone present. The mindset was happy and cheerful. She smiled and nodded at all the right times. Excitement of going to her room to daydream about James motivated her into finishing the chores. She sat patiently waiting for the day to end.
“You’re from back east, Miss O’Sheay?” Bagwell’s creepy, little voice broke into the peace of the tenants. The tenants fell deathly quiet.
“Yes.” Mattie withheld her temper from tearing her apart.
“Where you from?” His beady eyes bored holes in her.
“Georgia.” Mattie concentrated on the plate in front of her, paused, then raised her eyes to him.
“There’s a Martha Harding from the northern part of Georgia. The law is looking for her.” He continued his stares. “I hear she’s wanted for murder or something to that effect.”
“There are many Marthas in Georgia, Mr. Bagwell.”
“Indeed there are, Miss O’Sheay.”
He was unable to get a rise of any kind from her. Whatever this nosey man’s motive was, it made her want to slap his face. With all the eyes from the other tenants watching, she twisted her hands in her apron and seized a deep breath.
“Are you sure you aren’t, I mean, you don’t know her?” His beady eyes narrowed with his accusations.
“I was acquainted with a lot of people in Georgia. If I knew her, I don’t recall.” Mattie brushed off the man with a wave of her hand.
James glared at the rude man. “What point are you trying to make, Bagwell?”
“Small talk, that’s all. I thought Miss O’Sheay might know the woman.” Bagwell straightened in his own defense.
“Georgia is a large place. I may have known a lot of people, but why should I know everyone that lives there, Mr. Bagwell? Besides, every other family has a relative or two by the name Martha. It isn’t uncommon. A smart man such as yourself should know that.” Mattie pointed out with more confidence than she felt she had the right to possess.
“We, too, came from Georgia. I have never heard of this woman. What did she do to warrant gossip from you?” Helga Church asked, turning cold, blue eyes on Bagwell.
“She killed a deputy,” Bagwell said and turned back to his supper.
“Is this a known fact by you? Did you see it happen? If not Mr. Bagwell you are spreading unkind rumors about something you know nothing of.” Helga gasped.
If only the egotistical man would leave the table, peace would restore itself to the rest of the tenants. Bagwell brought out the worst in everyone. They didn’t hide their disgust of the putrid piece of rotten skunk. To get on the wrong side of Helga, the sweet, easygoing woman, was unheard of. Mattie ducked her head and coughed into her napkin to keep from laughing in his face.
When supper was over, Mattie followed Rose to the kitchen for the cherry pie she had made for dessert. “You cut and dish, I’ll serve,” Rose said, patting her shaking arm. She hoped Rose hadn’t noticed, but she could probably pass it off as hatred for Bagwell. “Don’t let that old coot upset you.”
“I don’t trust that man. There is something about him. I can’t place my finger on it, Rose.” Mattie concentrated on finding another reason to hate the man, an excuse plausible that would leave no explanation.
“James thinks he may work as a hired gun. He’s been doing some checking. Hasn’t found anything other than he doesn’t work for the law in Georgia. He’s getting on James’s’ nerves.”
“Why is he in Linden?”
“That’s what James is trying to find out. James is a good man; handsome too, if I say so myself.” Rose smiled and a low chuckle sounded. She turned her sparkling eyes on Mattie. They held a mystical amusement in them.
Mattie smoothed a stray hair from her face. Heat rose from her chest to cover her neck and face. Rose was surely reading her thoughts. Mattie smiled and lowered her head.
“Ah, what are you up to Rose?” The playful question hung in the room when Mr. Bagwell entered carrying his empty plate.
“I’m not up to anything, Mattie. I have seen the way James looks… Oh, Mr. Bagwell, would you like some cherry pie? We were just on our way out with it.”
“No. I believe I’ll turn in. I seemed to have ruffled some feathers.” The sarcasm rolled off his tongue. He stomped through the room with his newspaper crumpled under one arm, shaking his head and muttering incoherently.
“I wonder what he said this time.” Rose said as she and Mattie exchanged glances. They carried cherry pie to the dining room, and procured their seats. Mr. and Mrs. Church ate and retired to their room.