Three

Frank knew this night would be a long, sleepless one. It was quite awhile before dawn, but he dressed anyway. He stood at the window, leaning with both hands on the window frame, and studied the quiet street below. In the dream, the house had looked like his parents’ old homestead when he was a boy, only with new paint. Often, his mother had waited on the porch and watched for his father the same way the woman in his dream had. In fact, when he first saw her standing there, she was wearing a dress much like the ones his mother wore. Perhaps the dream was trying to tell him something. Was he was ready to settle down and have a family similar to the happy family he grew up in?

The moon had moved across the sky while he slept, and its beams highlighted the dress in the window across the street. It shone like a pearl on black velvet, nestled against the darkness of the store’s interior. Now he realized it was the dress the woman wore in his dream.

With a disgusted shake of his head, Frank turned toward the door. Maybe a walk in the cold night air would clear his head of the thoughts that plagued him. He needed to focus on the reason he came to this town. When he stepped out of the front door of the hotel, a nippy breeze caused gooseflesh to rise on his arms. He didn’t care. Taking a cheroot from his pocket, Frank struck a match to light it. After taking several draws on it, he realized it didn’t give him the satisfaction he usually felt when he smoked. He looked at the glowing tip before he flicked it into the dirt of the alley he was passing. He smashed it with the heel of his boot before continuing. His steps caused too much noise when he walked on the boardwalk, so he stepped out into the street. Frank couldn’t remember when he had ever felt so restless. It was something more than just being near the object of his search. He couldn’t put a name on the feeling, but he didn’t like it at all. He was used to being completely in control of his emotions as well as his body.

The moon was three-quarters full, and it was sinking near the horizon. Frank glanced toward the east and could see the first, faint predawn light. He wondered how long it would be before the restaurant at the hotel would start serving breakfast. He went back into the lobby and up to his room to stretch out on his bed and wait until he smelled food cooking.

❧

When Gerda opened the Dress Emporium the next morning, Clarissa Jenson was her first customer. Gerda was glad that someone had come to the shop so early. It would help take her thoughts off the man who had invaded her dreams. Although they hadn’t made any sense, his presence was overwhelming, clouding her mind.

“Clari!” Gerda and Anna had picked up the habit of calling the twin sisters by the shortened names they used for each other. “What brings you out so early in the morning?”

Clarissa gave Gerda a quick hug. “Ollie and I have the house fixed up the way we want it. It’s a good thing, too.” A dreamy expression covered Clarissa’s face like a veil. “Soon there will be something else to take all my attention.”

“You don’t mean. . . ?” Gerda wondered if this couple was going to have a child before her brother August and his wife, Anna, would. The Nilssons had been married longer, and they wanted a child so much.

Clarissa nodded. “We’re going to have a baby. So I need you to make me some clothes to wear while I’m expanding.”

“I’m so happy for you.” Gerda hugged Clarissa again. “You’ve had too many bad things happen in your life. I’m glad that has changed.”

Clarissa stepped back and rubbed her hands down her skirt. “The good things started several months ago when Pierre was sent to prison—and when God brought Ollie into my life.”

She went over to the counter where several fashion books were arranged and started leafing through one. “Do you have any ideas about what I’ll need?”

“I always enjoy creating lovely clothing to help women hide their growing figures while they wait for the birth of their child.” Gerda must have sounded wistful, because Clarissa looked concerned. Gerda didn’t want her to think she was unhappy. “Why don’t we go to the ice cream parlor to celebrate when we’ve finished choosing styles and materials?”

Clarissa walked to the display of fabrics on the shelves behind the counter and started running her fingers over different pieces, feeling their textures. “Actually, Mari and I are meeting there at ten o’clock, but you could join us. I’m afraid I’ve been craving one of those chocolate sundaes.” She patted her flat stomach for emphasis. “Having a baby makes a woman want strange things sometimes. A couple of days ago, I mentioned to Ollie that I would really like one of the pickles from the barrel in the mercantile, and he came to town and bought some.”

It took until almost ten o’clock for Clarissa to make up her mind about what fabrics to use for her new outfits. Gerda couldn’t help remembering how concerned she and Anna had been when Rissa Le Blanc kept changing her mind about the colors and styles of the dresses they were making for her. How surprised they had been to find out that there was no Rissa Le Blanc! Instead, the twins were playing a part their stepfather had created. Finally, the two dressmakers understood. Although the twins looked a lot alike, their tastes were very different. Their styles fit their personalities. Clarissa was more outgoing, and Marissa was the quieter sister. And Gerda loved both of them.

❧

Frank fell into a deep, dreamless sleep just before dawn. When he finally awoke, he cleaned up and shaved before he went to the dining room to see if he could get a late breakfast. Some places served all day, and others only at mealtime. He hoped this restaurant was one that didn’t have specific hours.

Molly, who had waited on him the night before, met him at the door. “How can we help you, Mr. Daggett?”

“Molly, I’m afraid I overslept.” He smiled at the older woman. “Do you think I could still get some breakfast?”

“Let me go ask Cook. I know she has started on lunch, but maybe she can do something for you. If not, I can make you some toast.”

She headed toward the kitchen, and Frank sat down at a table near the window. He didn’t think he could make it until lunch on only a couple pieces of toast, even if he loaded them with butter and jelly. A newspaper was lying on the table, so he picked it up and perused it until she returned.

“It just so happens that there is still some flapjack batter left. How does that sound?” A smile accompanied the waitress’s question.

When Frank agreed, she returned to the kitchen. Before long, she came back, but she didn’t have just buckwheat flapjacks with a tin of maple syrup. The cook was kind enough to make him bacon and eggs, too. He left the hotel fortified for a full day’s activities.

The sun was high in the sky when he stepped onto the boardwalk. He pulled the brim of his Stetson low to shade his eyes from the glare off the windows across the street.

Frank glanced down toward the saloon. All seemed to be quiet on that end of town. When he looked across the street, he was astonished to see Rissa Le Blanc exiting that dress shop he had noticed the night before. It had to be her. She looked exactly like the drawing one of their victims had made of her. He was right. Pierre and the other girl, if there was another girl, must be nearby. Here in Litchfield, Minnesota. When Frank had first headed this direction, he had been afraid it was too far north for this Southern family. His gut instincts kept urging him on. And he had learned long ago to trust his instincts.

Frank had even started to wonder if he had lost his touch, but since they were here, now he knew he hadn’t. All he had to do was keep an eye on this girl and let her lead him to Pierre. He wanted to catch that villain and make him and his accomplices pay for all the crimes they had committed.

Trying to act nonchalant, Frank sidled down the boardwalk in the direction the girl took. He kept his head down, so she wouldn’t notice that he was watching her from under the brim of his hat. Soon the Le Blanc woman went into the ice cream parlor. He continued walking toward the store. When he reached it, he leaned against the wall and pulled his knife and a small block of wood from his pocket. While he whittled on the wood, he could keep up with what was going on inside.

After he took a few small shavings from the wood, he studied the ice cream parlor from the corners of his eyes. Rissa Le Blanc sat at a table near some planters that looked remarkably like brass spittoons. She looked at the door as if she were waiting for someone. Maybe Le Blanc. Frank’s senses sharpened and his blood pumped through his veins at an accelerated rate. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He could almost smell victory.

❧

From the doorway of the Dress Emporium, Gerda watched Clarissa walk across the street toward the ice cream parlor. When she started to turn back into the store, she saw the cowboy head up the street. He seemed to be watching Clari. Of course, she couldn’t blame him. Clarissa was a very beautiful woman. When Clari went into the ice cream parlor, he sauntered toward it as if he were following her. He didn’t look eager, as he might if he wanted to flirt with her. It was more like he was stalking her. Gerda got a funny feeling deep inside. Something wasn’t quite right. She felt that Clarissa was in danger or. . .something. Maybe he was someone from Clarissa’s past, someone who had been swindled. Gerda didn’t think he was a lawman. Didn’t they usually wear badges? He wasn’t wearing one, although he did look more like a cowboy than he had at dinner last night. She could hear his spurs jingling as he walked down the boardwalk.

When he stopped and leaned against the building outside the ice cream parlor, she studied him intently. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he was watching Clarissa, even though he looked like he was whittling. He looked as if he were a spring that was wound really tight.

She stepped back inside and rushed into the back room for her wool cape and her reticule, then went out the front door, trying to appear nonchalant. Gerda locked the door to the Dress Emporium and hurried across the railroad tracks toward August’s blacksmith shop. He would know what to do to protect Clarissa and Marissa.

❧

When he noticed the beauty exiting the dress shop, Frank was distracted from both watching the Le Blanc girl and whittling. The woman turned and locked the front door of the store. She must be the proprietor. No wonder the dress in the window would look good on her. She probably created it.

The image of a woman pulling down the window shade above the dress shop returned to Frank’s mind. It was probably her. Now that he thought about it, the bit of skirt he had seen did resemble what she’d worn at dinner last night. He had watched her long enough that he should have recognized it when he saw it later. He just wasn’t thinking of her being there, so it hadn’t occurred to him. Again, Frank wondered if anyone else lived there with her—like a husband or children.

When the woman swept down the street and past the depot, he wondered where she was going in such a hurry. He glanced back into the confectionary shop. Rissa Le Blanc still sat at a table by herself. He started whittling again. Someday, he needed to learn how to really make something when he whittled. For now, it was merely a ploy he used in order to appear busy when he was tailing someone. No one knew he just chipped small pieces off the block of wood until it was as small as a toothpick. Then he’d throw it away and start on another block.

He’d gotten the idea from watching his grandfather whittle, when he was a small boy. The things that emerged from the blocks of wood Gramps worked on were wondrous. The toy soldiers, small animals, even sailing ships his grandfather had whittled had given Frank hours of enjoyment as a child. It was too bad he had never learned the craft from Gramps.

❧

It was still a cool spring, but before Gerda arrived at the blacksmith shop, she wished she had left off the wool cape that matched her dress. She hurried, because she didn’t want to be too late meeting with Marissa and Clarissa. By the time she arrived at the open door of the smithy, she was almost out of breath. Her shadow must have alerted her brother to her presence, because he turned from what he was doing.

“Gerda, come in.” A smile spread across August’s face. “What can I do for you? Do you have something for me to fix?”

She put her hand to her throat and took a deep breath. “No, I don’t need anything repaired. But I do need your help. I don’t know what to do!”

August rushed over to her and looked deep into her eyes. “What has upset you?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s anything or not.” Her words tumbled out in rapid succession. “But that cowboy is following Clari, and I don’t want anything to happen to her. Especially now that she’s going to have a baby.”

August looked confused. “Slow down, sister. You’re talking too fast. Now what cowboy?”

Gerda pulled off the cape and draped it over her arm. “Well, there’s this cowboy. He’s new in town. He was at the hotel last night when we had dinner.”

August nodded. “I saw him, but I didn’t pay that much attention to him. Why do you think he’s following Clarissa?”

Suddenly, Gerda wondered if she had made too much out of what she’d seen. He could just be a drifter. Maybe he just happened to walk down the street after Clarissa did. It could all be merely a coincidence. What if she was mistaken? Deep inside, the worry wouldn’t go away.

“He watched Clarissa go to the ice cream parlor. Then he followed her but stopped and leaned against the outside wall and started whittling. Then I got this uncomfortable feeling about it. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to Clarissa or Marissa. They’re meeting there for a treat.”

August put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve learned to trust women’s intuition. Even if there isn’t anything wrong, I’ll go check it out.” He went to the table and took off his apron. Then he banked the fire in the forge. He turned toward the door. “You go back to the store, and I’ll take care of it.”

Gerda shook her head. “I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Clari and Mari at the ice cream parlor. We’re going to celebrate together.”

August laughed. “Oh, yes, you did mention something about a baby, didn’t you?”

“Yes, she and Ollie are expecting. You don’t think it’ll make Anna feel bad, do you?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He closed the door and dropped the board into the holders. “She’ll be happy for them. Our time will come. You go ahead, and I’ll follow at a slower pace. I don’t want the man to know we’re together. Just be careful.”