CHAPTER 5
After breakfast, Preacher and Charlie went to Higginbotham’s Mercantile, where Preacher usually picked up the supplies he needed for his trips to the mountains. He visited with the proprietor for a while before giving the man the list of the goods he wanted to purchase. Since Preacher didn’t know for sure when he would leave town, they reached an agreement that the supplies would be packed up and stored there until the time came for him to collect them.
As they left the store, Charlie said, “You know everybody in St. Louis, don’t you?”
“No, not hardly,” Preacher replied. “But I’ve been goin’ to the mountains for quite a spell and doin’ business with folks here for that long, too. It makes sense I’ve gotten to know some of ’em pretty well.”
They walked around the sprawling settlement for a while. As they strolled along the riverfront, Charlie paused to look at a side-wheeler tied up at one of the wharves. The large, impressive boat had the name Majestic lettered across its stern. Workers loaded cargo on it in anticipation of its obviously imminent departure.
“Have you ever ridden on one of those, Preacher?” Charlie asked the mountain man.
“Yep, several times. Went up the Missouri on one of ’em a few years back. Ran into all kinds of trouble, too.”
Charlie chuckled. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Have you ever gone anywhere you didn’t run into trouble?”
“I’m sure I have.” With a frown, Preacher went on. “Got to admit, though, right now I can’t think of where it might’ve been.”
As they continued walking around St. Louis, Charlie talked about Lucy Tarleton. Clearly, the girl had made a big impression on him.
“She’s very devoted to her aunt, you know,” Charlie said. “They travel together frequently.”
“How come?”
Charlie frowned. “You mean, why is she devoted to her aunt?”
“No, I mean how do they come to do all that travelin’?”
“Well, I”—Charlie’s frown deepened—“I don’t know. She never really explained that part. I suppose they just enjoy traveling. Some people do. You should understand that, since you’re always on the move yourself.”
“Yeah, I’m a fiddle-footed sort,” Preacher admitted. “Don’t see that very often in ladies, though.”
“I’ll ask her when we meet for dinner later at the restaurant,” Charlie said. “That is, if I can come up with a way to do so without seeming to pry too much. I mean, it’s really not any of our business, is it?”
“Reckon not.” Preacher waited a few moments, then asked, “Where are they from?”
“Lucy and her aunt?” Charlie sounded a little irritated now, rather than puzzled. “She never said. I didn’t demand answers to such questions, though. We simply had a pleasant conversation, and the subjects you’re addressing now never came up.” Charlie paused, then said, “You still think there’s something suspicious about her, don’t you?”
“I’m just sayin’ it’s a good idea to be careful, especially when you’re dealin’ with somebody you don’t know much about.”
“Aaron and I didn’t know anything about you when we met you,” Charlie pointed out.
“And maybe you’d have been better off if you hadn’t run into me,” Preacher said.
Without hesitation, Charlie shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that. Even with the way everything worked out, I’m richer for having known you, Preacher, and Aaron was, too. He said as much to me more than once.” His voice caught a little. “I . . . I don’t think he would have traded the time we spent in the mountains for anything.”
“Well . . . I hope that’s true. Come on. Let’s amble toward Trammell’s. It’ll be gettin’ close to dinner time when we get there.”
At the restaurant, a waitress showed them to a table and brought them cups of coffee while they waited. When they sat down, the midday crowd hadn’t arrived yet, but as time passed, more and more people came into the place.
Not Lucy Tarleton, though.
Charlie’s forehead creased in a frown again. “I hope everything is all right. I expected her to be here by now.”
“Maybe her aunt ain’t feelin’ well,” Preacher suggested.
“Assuming she even has an aunt. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That she lied to us? To me?”
“Well, we ain’t met the old lady,” Preacher pointed out, “but that don’t mean she ain’t real. I’m just sayin’ there’s all sorts of things that could’ve happened to delay Miss Tarleton.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Charlie said grudgingly. As the time continued to pass with no sign of Lucy, though, his distress grew.
Finally, after taking out his pocket watch and checking it, he said, “I’m going to the hotel to make sure she’s all right.”
“All right,” Preacher said as he started to get to his feet. “I don’t reckon that would hurt anything.”
Charlie waved him back into his chair. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stay here. That way, if I miss her and she does show up, you can tell her where I am and that I’ll be back shortly.”
Preacher sat back and shrugged. “If that’s what you want me to do.”
“It is. Thank you, Preacher.”
“Nothin’ to thank me for. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ except sittin’ here drinkin’ coffee.”
Charlie hurried out of the restaurant. The waitress came over and asked Preacher, “Is anything wrong?”
“Nope. My friend’ll be back.” Preacher paused, then added, “He’s just young and maybe thinks a mite too much.”
The hotel where Lucy Tarleton and her mysterious aunt had a room was just in the next block, Preacher reminded himself. He didn’t figure Charlie could get into any trouble in broad daylight, in the middle of St. Louis.
* * *
Charlie stared across the counter at the hotel clerk. “What do you mean, there’s no Miss Tarleton staying here?”
The clerk apparently couldn’t resist the temptation to smirk, as hotel clerks tended to do. He said, “I’m sorry, sir,” without sounding as if he meant it, then added, “Perhaps you got the young lady’s name wrong.”
“No, it’s Miss Lucy Tarleton, I’m sure of it. She’s staying here with her aunt.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow and asked, “And the aunt’s name?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” Charlie had to admit. “Miss Tarleton never mentioned it.”
“Well, then, I don’t see how I can help you.”
The man’s smugly superior tone made Charlie want to lunge across the desk, grab his shirtfront, and hold a knife to his throat. See if he felt like smirking and sneering then! Charlie had fought white renegades and Blackfoot warriors and survived all those adventures with Preacher. No blasted hotel clerk could look down his nose at him and get away with it!
But Charlie didn’t do that, because worry and confusion over Lucy occupied his mind instead. Had she lied to him? Had Preacher been right to be suspicious of her? As much as he admired the mountain man, Charlie had to admit he hoped Preacher had been wrong in this case.
He muttered his thanks and walked out of the hotel, seeming to feel the clerk’s arrogant gaze on his back. When he reached the street, he started to turn back toward Trammell’s, but then he stopped short. He remembered how he had told Lucy about hiding the money from the furs in his room.
He didn’t want to consider even the possibility that she might be a thief, but something was wrong, no doubt about that. There might be many excuses for Lucy being late to arrive at the restaurant, but not for her lying to him about where she was staying. He wanted to find out the truth before he saw Preacher again. Maybe he could regain some respect in the mountain man’s eyes if he got to the bottom of this.
With that thought in mind, he turned his steps toward the inn where he had spent the night. If Lucy really was after his money, maybe he could catch her there. And if she wasn’t, he could at least get the pouch of coins and make sure it was safe.
Within a block, he was running.