Before the Dawn Page 7

  Any other time and place and he would have.

  “You walk a thin line, Varney.”

  Varney shrugged. Once more his chair hit the floor with a thump and creak. “I just tell it like I sees it. Here’s the way I sees it. You got some weird need to kill ’cause you can’t resist it. I’ve known your kind—”

  “So you said. Get on with it.”

  “You and your whole damned family put on airs. You see, it don’t mean a tinker’s damn to me whether you are protestant or papist or some other damned religion. I ain’t got use for any of it. I just know you Irish come into my country and start tryin’ to change things. And most of you is poor and not worth a half penny. So I ain’t interested in whether you got a twisted mind and like to kill little girls or diddle men. Don’t matter to me. All I want is what you owe me, and I’ll do what I’m paid to do. You, though, you kill ’cause it tastes good in your mouth. You’d do it whether your boss paid you or not.”

  A new, dark place opened inside Amos, and he wished he didn’t need this miscreant to rid the world of Elijah. “Boss?”

  “Yeah. You work for that nativist, don’t you?”

  Amos could have denied it. Wanted to lie. He almost tried. “You say nativist like it’s a bad thing. You just got through telling me that you hate immigrants.”

  “Nah, I don’t hate nativists. I’m just sayin’ you’d kill even if you didn’t work for Leonard Fenwick. That’s his name, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You one of his men?”

  “You know I work for him.”

  Varney’s self-satisfied grin returned. “What do you do for him?”

  “None of your feckin’ business. He’s the leader of the nativist party around these parts.”

  Varney laughed, this time a barking caterwaul sure to bring attention.

  Irritated more than he’d been in a long time, Amos growled out his next words. “Shut up. I don’t pay you to know anything about me. You just do as you’re told.”

  “Yes, sir.” Varney’s accent changed to a slow drawl laced with condescension. “Whatever you say. So I got my first portion of money, and everything is in order.”

  Amos’s pulse lowered, his anxiety and anger slowing. “You have your men in place?”

  “They’re in place. Don’t you worry. By the time your brother gets to the western side of these mountains, you’ll be able to make a dead man outta him sure as I’m sittin’ here.”

  Amos liked the certainty, the sound of it. He’d spent too much time running or preparing to run. The law, such as it was, intended to find him. Fenwick’s other men, men with influence, had promised to stall the law for him. Yet he’d heard the sheriff had sent secret men after him. Whatever the Sam Hill secret men were.

  “You know what I can’t figure?” Varney asked as thunder rolled outside. “I can’t figure why you didn’t kill Zeke before he could prove you was the one that killed that little whore Elijah planned to marry.”

  Amos’s mouth twisted. “Because I never believed Zeke could figure it out. Never prove it.”

  “Fooled you.”

  “Once I’m done with Elijah, I’m going after Zeke and that pretty wife of his.”

  Varney chuckled. “You want his wife for yourself? Or you just goin’ to take your pleasure on her?”

  Amos grunted. “Women like me.” Amos felt his heart thumping in his chest, his muscles tightening. Words rushed from him like a dam break. “Especially Maureen.”

  Varney leaned forward again, eyes gleaming with a sick fascination. “Yeah?”

  “I planted my seed in her. I figured Elijah would disown her.” He poked at his chest with his index finger. “He didn’t, and that’s when she had to pay.”

  Varney shook his head and took a sip from his tankard. “You’re a madman, McKinnon, but I like that in a person. Keeps things interestin’.” He raised his drink. “A toast then. To makin’ those papists stew in their own blood, no matter who they are or where they come from.”

  Though Amos hated Varney’s guts, he could agree with two things. Papists needed to leave the country, and Amos needed to kill Elijah.

  Thunder rattled the building, and Mary Jane jumped. The sky darkened as more rain pummeled the earth. A glance at the parlor wall clock verified the late hour. Elijah stood with her at the window.

  A conversation ensued between several well-dressed men about the state of the weather, the pique on their faces consistent with displeasure. Mary Jane decided to ignore their ranting. It was not as if anything could be done about the weather. She returned to staring out the window, and remembered Elijah’s words earlier in the day about sleeping with her.

  I would have remembered that.

  Elijah’s intensity as he had said those words echoed in Mary Jane’s mind over and over. His eyes had burned into her, filled with two emotions she was not sure could be combined in one man at one time. Lust and exasperation. Oh, yes, she had seen both in his eyes. He confused her. After all, how could he find her bothersome and yet still appear interested in her carnally?

  She almost longed to see him laugh again. She tried to imagine what could have kept him from laughing for five years. Had Maureen, whoever she was, caused his sadness? His secrets were many and truly none of her business. She should stay away from questioning the Irishman. But, oh, his smile had channeled raw, sweet need deep into secret places she didn’t know she possessed until she’d met him. His eyes, so vivid, had sparked with a fire enticing and thrilling. Not even Thaddeus had made her yearn for things the way the Irishman did.

  You almost confessed your entire past to him, Mary Jane. Do not be so foolish.

  For if he knew her past, would he think her easy to give out her affections? Would he see her as a light foot he could trifle with regardless of all decency?

  “How did your father die, Mary Jane?” Elijah asked.

  She didn’t expect that question. “In a riot.”

  “What?”

  Perhaps she had revealed too much about her family. “A riot. The small one that started around Kensington last week.” She turned to face him once more. “It was a freak accident, from what I’m told. At first the authorities said he had been murdered.”

  His eyebrows pinched together. “What made them change their minds?”

  An ache settled inside her. “I do not think we’ll ever know the complete truth. My father had gone to a nativist rally in Kensington after he checked progress at his factory. From what the police say, the nativists were standing on the podium doing a speech. My father was in the crowd watching with two supervisors from his warehouse. Those men said an Irishman started hurling insults at the men on the podium. Moments later, a small riot erupted and fights broke out among the nativists in the crowd and Irishmen. In the scuffle my father suffered a broken skull and a knife wound.”

  Elijah’s eyes stayed almost cold, but she saw the anger emerging from those cool green depths. “That’s horrible.”

  She sniffed. “If he had not gone to that ridiculous rally, he would still be alive.”

  Mary Jane fumbled with her reticule and pulled out her handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes and fought to keep tears from escaping.

  “As much as you had difficulties with your father, you still loved him.”

  She nodded. “A strange thing, really, because I know I did not respect him. He was esteemed by so many, but now that he is gone, the real man he was is more clear to me.”

  “Why didn’t your mother come with you to Philadelphia?”

  She shrugged. “She is quite inconsolable. They had many quarrels, so I did not think she would be devastated. My Aunt Claurice went to stay with her and my sisters. She is a good…steady sort.”

  “You almost sound as if you wish she was your mother.”

  His insinuation fired her indignation. “Of course not. I do not feel comfortable with Aunt Claurice.”

  “She’s a spinster?”

  She reached up and adjusted her hat, which di
d not feel secure on her hair. “Her husband and two boys were killed in a carriage accident many years ago.”

  She heaved a sigh to relieve the tightness that drew the muscles along her shoulders into sharp pain.

  Before Mary Jane knew it, Elijah’s face altered. The indifferent mien slipped, a flash of sadness reaching his eyes. Suddenly, he twined his arms around her and drew her to his chest. One solid arm anchored her back, while his other hand clasped hot and comforting at the back of her neck. As surprise held her immobile, she pressed her cheek to his shoulder and gave herself up to comfort. His body was solid and strong when she needed it. But she only allowed a momentary respite before she remembered who she was and where she was. Without looking him in the eye, she disengaged from his arms. She turned back to the window. She had to halt this insidious need for his sheltering touch. It would not do to continue relying on him. It would not do.

  The boat captain walked in and glanced around the room. “Anything I can do for you folks?”

  Elijah nodded. “We’d be obliged if you could give us directions to the lodge or inn, please.”

  “Of course. There are both about five blocks away, though, and since it’s raining like all tarnation, I don’t recommend walking.”

  “My wife isn’t walking in this. We’ll hire a cabriolet.”

  The boat captain gave them a clever, warm smile. “If you can find a cab that is out in this weather. I haven’t seen it rain this heavily in a long time. Maybe you should have taken the omnibus straight to a hotel.”

  As if to confirm his statement, thunder rumbled louder, and lightning flashed across the windows. A resounding crash followed, and Mary Jane started.

  “We’ll find one.” Elijah’s statement sounded confident. Mary Jane hoped he proved right.

  Several other men took directions from the captain on where to find accommodations and left the room.

  A petite, stiff-faced woman of about forty and an equally small man about the same age strode into the parlor. The haughty woman floated across the room, the size of her crinoline beating Mary Jane’s by at least six inches. With sharp-nosed importance, features pinched into displeasure, she comported herself like an indignant queen. The lady’s violent red hair was parted down the middle, ringlets bouncing at each step. She lacked a hat, and her clothes spoke of clear wealth.

  “Ah, there you are Captain Hargrove,” the woman said. “When do we depart?”

  Drawing himself up to his full height, the captain said, “As we announced before, we can’t leave here tonight, ma’am. The weather has obviously taken a turn for the worst.”

  The woman halted in front of the man, irritation written on every inch of her dour face. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  Tall and sapling thin, the official didn’t flinch. “I know who everyone is on board the Philadelphia and Columbia. You’re Delilah Montgomery.”

  She drew herself up to a total height of perhaps five feet. “Mrs. Montgomery.” She gestured behind her. “That is Mr. Fritz Montgomery of the Philadelphia Montgomerys. If you want to keep your job, you will return to the station and tell them we demand this trip proceed.”

  “The weather demands we halt for the day, Mrs. Montgomery. We’re giving everyone directions to the Cedar Lodge and the Cambrian Inn. They are lovely places just built within the last year.”

  “Unacceptable.” The woman snapped the word, her face growing red, eyes flashing with indignation.

  Before anyone else could speak, skinny man and blond man walked into the room. Mary Jane was surprised. She thought they had disappeared for good—she had not spied them since departing the canal boat earlier that day. Mary Jane’s stomach cramped as the filthy pair walked into the room with the air of rats searching for cheese.

  “This is not to be tolerated,” the exasperated woman said. “We cannot stay in this town tonight. We were scheduled to reach Duncan’s Island today.”

  The captain nodded. “Yes, we were, ma’am, but with the weather like it is, there is a threat of flood. I would be happy to give you the name of a stagecoach that might leave tonight, but that’s not a given. You will also have to forfeit your ticket on the train if you do that.”

  Sighing dramatically, the woman threw a glower around the room. “Then I hope you have suitable accommodations at the Cedar….” She waved one hand in dismissal. “Cedar Inn did you call it?”

  “The Cedar Lodge, ma’am. And the Cambrian Inn. But I wouldn’t say the rooms are expensive, Mrs. Montgomery. This is a simple town with simple choices,” the captain said.

  The haughty woman planted her hands on her hips. “Honestly, I have never heard of anything more ridiculous.”

  Tired of the woman’s rant, Mary Jane stepped forward. “Surely it is not wise to continue traveling until the rain stops. I am…” Mary Jane stumbled over her fake last name. “Mary Jane McKinnon.”

  Mrs. Montgomery gave Mary Jane an insulting up and down inspection.

  When the shrew said nothing, Mary Jane gestured to Elijah. “This is my husband, Elijah McKinnon.”

  The woman’s husband walked up before Elijah could speak. He looked as frazzled as the woman and as put out. He held a tall hat in one hand and retrieved a pocket watch from his waistcoat. His long, dark mustache was speckled with gray. “Are you that Elijah McKinnon? The one who was just released from Eastern State Penitentiary?”

  All the air seemed to leave the room. Mary Jane’s mouth opened in shock at the announcement, but she could not form a single word.

  Chapter Six

  Mary Jane stood in stunned disbelief as she tried to keep surprise off of her face. Several men, including the skinny man and blond man, turned towards the conversation. Along with astonishment came humiliation and anger. And, in an odd way, a sense of betrayal. Of course he would hide the fact that he was a criminal. Disappointment piled on to her fear. She had known there was something different about him but never suspected she kept company with a rogue.

  Elijah’s normally secretive expression cracked and clear anger flashed over his features. “This is a misunderstanding.”

  Fritz tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. “I recognized your name. There were articles about you in the newspaper after you were released.”

  One of the red-headed twins she had seen earlier on the trip walked up. “What was he in for?”

  Fritz’s nose tilted upward. “Murder.”

  Fritz’s wife gasped and put her hand to her throat. “My God. A murderer in our midst.”

  The other red-headed twin bristled and stepped forward, coiled to spring. “An escaped prisoner?”

  Fritz waved a hand. “No, no. Released from prison.”

  Mary Jane’s throat felt as if someone had twisted a rope around it. She could barely suck in the next breath.

  “Well, don’t that beat all?” the skinny man said.

  Elijah’s face hardened to granite. “Come on, Mary Jane.”

  Before she could utter a protest, Elijah took her elbow and marched out of the room. She heard voices behind them and looked back. The red-headed men walked fast to catch up, the blond man and skinny man behind them.

  “Wait,” one of the redheads said. “Unhand that woman.”

  Elijah released Mary Jane, but he put her behind him and confronted the men. He held his hands up in a conciliatory fashion. “Gentlemen, this is a misunderstanding. My wife and I just want to be left alone.”

  All four men glared at Elijah. She recognized if things turned ugly, Elijah wouldn’t stand a chance. He was certainly strong, but how did any man take on four others and survive? The well-dressed, red-headed gentlemen were powerful looking and determined in appearance. Of course, the skinny man and blond man appeared as mean as ever, and she did not trust them.

  One of the redheads spoke. “Mrs. McKinnon, just give us the word, and if this man is in any way causing you harm—”

  “My wife doesn’t need your help.” Elijah’s voice deepened, his accent turning thicker. “N
ow, if you’ll just let us be on our way.”

  “Gentlemen.” The captain came around the corner. “If I have to, to I’ll send for the sheriff. No crime has been committed here. Yet.”

  Blond man’s smile didn’t fit the gravity of the situation. “We think this man is holding this woman against her will.”

  “She’s my wife.” Elijah’s definitive statement came out strong and clear.

  “Let the lady speak,” the captain said.

  Elijah’s fists clenched, his body tight with tension.

  “You don’t need help, ma’am?” One of red-headed brothers stepped closer. Sincere concern etched his features, his voice going soft as if he feared frightening a doe. “We don’t mind escorting you to the hotel if you need it.”

  She did not wish to create a scene, and she knew if she balked and told the truth, something awful might happen. She took the path of least resistance. “We are all exhausted and the rain has put everyone in a bad sort. There is no need to create trouble.”

  One of the red-headed men took a single step forward and Elijah tensed. “Ma’am, if this criminal is holding you against your will—”

  “I’m not holding her against her will.” Elijah’s voice rose and the redhead’s eyes went bright with suspicion and anger.

  Mary Jane realized mayhem would erupt if she did not do something. Bother. How did she get into these situations? “Please, sirs. Your concern does you credit, but there is no need for worry. My husband and I want to retire for the evening.”

  After a long, tension-filled moment, Elijah took her arm again and led her away. She glanced back, but the men did not follow.

  Elijah walked so fast that she almost had to trot to match his long stride. They advanced on the doors leading to the street and the large overhang porch. Rain came down in heavy sheets, the air redolent with moisture. Water threatened to rise over wooden walkways along the buildings. The ire on Elijah’s face threatened more than the storm.

  “Slow down.” She tugged against his hold. “Mr. McKinnon.”