CHAPTER 28
Brice had been climbing the steps briskly, but he slowed and then stopped as he reached the porch. The puzzled, angry frown that appeared on his face told Denny that he had heard what she said to Markham. She had hoped that he hadn’t, although it wouldn’t have really mattered, she realized. Markham would have crowed about it anyway.
Which is exactly what he did, his grin widening as he said, “Will I go with you to the town social, Miss Denny? Why, I sure will! I’ll be pleased as that punch the boys are gonna be spikin’. It’ll be a pure honor to escort you to that fandango.” His voice was loud enough that everybody in the vicinity of the general store must have heard him, not just Brice Rogers.
Brice was aware of what was going on, that was for sure. He came closer.
Markham noticed him and said, “Why, howdy there, Rogers.”
Brice ignored the greeting and looked intently at Denny. He pinched the brim of his brown hat and nodded as he said, “Morning, Miss Jensen.” His voice was coldly formal.
“Hello, Brice.” She gestured vaguely toward Markham. “You know Steve Markham . . .”
“Yeah, we met at the ranch the other day.” Brice’s tone was even chillier as he added, “Hello, Markham.”
“You hear the news?” Markham said. “Miss Denny just asked me to go to that town social with her. Ain’t that somethin’?”
“Yeah, it sure is.” Brice looked at Denny again. “Hope you enjoy yourself, Miss Jen sen.”
Before Denny could respond, the sound of a train’s whistle shrilled through the air. In a minute or so, the westbound would be pulling up to the platform of the big redbrick station at the end of the street.
Brad caught hold of Denny’s hand, tugging on it. “Let’s go watch the train come in! I like trains.”
Denny saw an opportunity and seized it. “Steve, why don’t you walk down to the depot with Brad and watch the train come in?”
“You and I were talkin’—” Markham began.
“We’ve finished our conversation for now.”
Brice had turned away and started toward the door of the general store.
“I thought of something else I need to ask Mr. Goldstein.”
Brad let go of her hand and tugged on Markham’s sleeve. “Come on, Steve,” he urged. “I want to be there when the train lets the steam off. It makes these big clouds!”
“All right,” Markham said with some reluctance. He added to Denny, “We’ll talk more later.”
“I’m sure we will,” she agreed. As Brad and Markham started down the steps to the street, she hurried into the store where Brice Rogers had just gone.
She caught up to him before he reached the counter in the rear of the store. “Brice, I want to talk to you.”
He stopped, turned, and regarded her coolly as he said, “I’m not sure what we have to talk about.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, blast it,” she said as her exasperation overcame her desire to smooth things over. “I’d planned to ask you to that social, but I’ve barely seen you for weeks.”
“My job keeps me pretty—”
“Busy, I know. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even be in town on Saturday night, is there? You may be off somewhere chasing a bunch of owlhoots.”
“There are no guarantees in a lawman’s life,” said Brice.
“That’s right. So don’t act offended that I asked Steve Markham instead. I know he’ll be available.”
“You don’t hardly know the fella. He hasn’t even been around here a month.”
“But in the time he’s been here, he’s helped me out,”—Denny was still a little reluctant to admit that about the horse race, but it was true—“fought rustlers side by side with my father, and probably saved Cal’s life. I’d say he’s made a pretty good impression.”
“He must have, for you to ask him to go with you to that social.”
Denny threw her hands in the air. “It’s just one dance, Brice!”
“Seemed like it was more than that to Markham, the way he was so excited about it. I hope you have a good time, Denny. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . Got to stock up on ammunition. Never can tell when I’ll have to go off chasing owlhoots again.”
He gave her a polite nod—his natural chivalry wouldn’t allow him to do any less than that, she knew—and turned to walk toward the counter again.
Denny let him go. If he wanted to be like that, she thought, then that was just fine. She wasn’t going to worry about his delicate little feelings, she told herself with a mental snort of dismissal.
Still, she wished things hadn’t turned out quite that way, and the feeling nagged at her as she walked toward Big Rock’s railroad station.
The westbound train had arrived by the time she got there, of course, and in fact was just about ready to roll out again after passengers had disembarked and others had boarded. All the freight bound for Big Rock had been unloaded. Men were taking crates from a stack on the platform and placing them on wagons pulled up at one end of the building.
Denny spotted Steve Markham and Brad standing on the platform not far from the big Baldwin locomotive. Brad was talking animatedly and pointing.
As Denny came up to them, Markham said, “Ol’ Brad here knows a whole heap about trains, lemme tell you. He’s been explainin’ to me what all the parts of this locomotive are.”
“I wouldn’t mind being an engineer someday,” Brad said. “If I’m not a cowboy, that is. Or a famous explorer.”
“I’ve got a feeling you can do whatever you set your mind to,” Denny told the youngster.
“Did you get your, ah, business finished with that Rogers fella?” Markham asked.
Denny was about to tell him that that was none of his business, but she reined in the impulse. Instead she said, “Don’t worry about Brice Rogers.”
“He’s a lawman, you know,” Brad piped up.
Markham looked down at the boy and frowned. “He is?”
“Yep. A deputy United States marshal, he told me. I guess he was telling the truth. He didn’t show me his badge or anything.”
Markham glanced at Denny. “You didn’t tell me my competition was a deputy marshal.”
“The two of you aren’t competing for anything,” she said.
“I ain’t so sure about that.”
“Well, I am,” Denny said.
She might have said more, but at that moment someone behind her called, “Miss Jensen?”
She turned to see a redhaired, freckle-faced boy about sixteen hurrying toward her. He wore black trousers and vest, a white shirt and a string tie, and had a green eyeshade on his head. Denny knew his name and that he worked at the Western Union office as a messenger and part-time telegrapher. He clutched a little envelope in one hand, the sort of envelope in which telegrams were delivered.
“Hello, Lester,” she said. “What can I do for you? Is that telegram for me?”
“No, ma’am,” said Lester, “but it is for your pa. I was gonna ride out to the Sugarloaf and deliver it later this afternoon, but I saw you walking through the depot lobby and figured if I could catch up to you and let you take it, Mr. Jensen would get it sooner. If you’re heading back out to the ranch before too much longer, that is.”
“We won’t be starting back until my mother is ready to go,” Denny explained, “but that shouldn’t be too much longer.” She took the envelope from the young man. “Thank you, Lester. I’ll be glad to give it to my father.”
“Thank you, Miss Jensen.” Lester ducked his head, scuffed his foot against the platform, and turned to hurry off.
Markham laughed. “Did you see how that young fella was blushin’? I guess just talkin’ to you got him all hot and bothered, Denny.”
Brad said, “Why would he be hot and bothered? Was he scared of you, Denny?”
“Maybe a little, Brad,” she said as she gave Markham another quick frown.
He laughed again and gestured toward the envelope. “Don’t you wonder who that wire’s from?”
“It’s none of my business. It’s addressed to my father.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet you’re curious, anyway.”
Denny shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to open it and read it, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Don’t you ever break the rules? Oh, wait a minute. You snuck that Rocket mustang into the race at your brother’s weddin’, didn’t you?”
“I’ve broken plenty of rules,” Denny snapped, then immediately regretted it because she supposed she shouldn’t have been saying such a thing in front of Brad. She was a grown-up, after all, and ought to be setting a good example for him.
The train’s conductor walked along beside the cars and let out the traditional leather-lunged bellow of “Boooaaarrrdd! All aboard!” Up in the locomotive’s cab, the engineer pulled the whistle cord again, and the shriek was loud enough to prevent any further conversation on the platform. With a hiss of steam and rattle and clank of drivers on the steel rails, the train began to move.
As it pulled out of the station, Denny put a hand on Brad’s shoulder and turned him toward the depot lobby. “Come on. Let’s go see if my mother’s ready to head back to the ranch yet.”