Christie And The Hellcat Part 38

"Good."

"It's not official business, Milligan." They resumed walking. "I'm here to talk to Bluford Hayes. Know where his store is?"

"Commercial Street. I'll show you." Milligan's brows creased.

"Haven't those two patched things up between them yet?"

"No. But I aim to change thatChristie's been fretting. Plus, Blue's got a piano belonged to their parents. He don't play and Christie could sure use it."

"Piano?" Milligan guffawed. "Watch out, Brodie! She'll be holding musical soirees next."

Zee pretended not to hear.

They were walking past a clapboard building with an elegant false front, bearing the calligraphed legend "The Cactus Club." The social club was frequented by Contention's wealthier businessmen, some of whom were cl.u.s.tered in the large bay window, smoking expensive cigars after a no doubt excellent dinner. One profile was instantly familiar, causing Zee to check her stride before continuing.

That ridiculous beard. Last time she had seen its owner, he had been considering calling her out.

Fred Younger turned toward her. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

Just my luck!

The creak of the Cactus Club's front door opening was followed by the sudden murmur of male voices. Her nape hairs p.r.i.c.kled, and she glanced in a nearby window and saw the reflections of the men now gathered on the sidewalk staring after her. Fred's face looked like thunder, and Zee's hand dropped to her gun b.u.t.t. Unless she missed her guess, he was the type to shoot someone in the back.

Millain saw the gesture and glanced back. Fred eyed him for a long moment, muttered something to his friends, then retreated back inside the social club. Zee relaxed and blew out a breath.

"So," said Milligan, resuming their conversation as though nothing had happened. "Christie wants a reconciliation with her brother, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I wouldn't get your hopes up. Blue may not be very . . .

approachable right now." They turned the corner into Commercial Street.

251.

"d.a.m.n!" Zee glanced at him. "I know I ain't top of his popularity list, but"

"It ain't that. Your timing's bad, that's all. His business is going down the drain."

As she digested that fact, she scanned the storefronts up ahead.

There it was, on the left, a little way past the undertaker's. Large black letters spelled out "Bluford Hayes, Dry Goods."

"And that's the reason." Milligan pointed at the brand new storefront directly opposite Blue's faded store. The contrast could not have been starker. "Younger's Fabric Emporium," proclaimed fresh crimson letters. "We sell it Cheaper."

Zee chewed the inside of her cheek. "Younger's?"

"Alexander Younger put up the money, but I'm betting it was his son's idea. Fred's had a burr under his saddle ever since Christie jilted him."

"Strictly speaking, it was Fred jilted Christie."

Milligan shrugged. "Makes no difference. He's bound and determined to ruin anyone named Hayes. And he's succeeding."

Zee sighed. She had come to Contention to solve problems not add them to her list. When Christie heard about this . . .

"Well, I've errands to run, so I'll be off." Milligan tipped his hat to her. "Give my regards to your other half, and to Hogan when you see him."

"Sure thing." She gestured at Blue's store. "Much obliged for the directions."

"You're welcome."

GIF.

"Oh, it's you." The ap.r.o.n-clad man behind the counter slumped back onto his stool, the light dying from eyes the same green as his sister's.

"Yeah." Zee busied herself closing the door, eliciting another tinkle from the bell above it. In spite of his house being a pigsty and Milligan's warning, the state of the store's interior and of its owner came as something of a shock. She donned her poker face and removed her hat.

"Sorry to hear things aren't going well, Blue." She placed her hat on the counter and began to remove her gloves finger by finger.

252.

He snorted. "Where did you get that idea?" He gestured at his empty store. "Can't you see I'm rushed off my feet?" He had lost weight since their last encounter, and there was a gray cast to his complexion. He also needed a haircut and shave.

Zee placed her gloves inside her hat and glanced at her surroundings. The cotton reels, boxes of pins, and pattern books needed dusting and the bolts of fabric straightening, but Blue didn't seem to notice or care. Bad sign that. Best to change the subject maybe.

"Christie sends her love."

Mention of his sister seemed to perk him up a bit. "Is she with you?" He looked around.

"No."

His shoulders slumped again. But his reaction had given Zee hope that her journey hadn't been wasted after all.

"But she's well. She was hoping for a reply to her letter."

For a moment, Blue looked puzzled, then he flushed. "Oh, that. I meant to answer it. Got things on my mind."

"She thinks you're still mad at her."

Blue shook his head. "I was, but . . . that doesn't seem important now. Besides, it wasn't her fault." A flash of his old spirit returned.

"What chance did she have?" He glared at Zee. "You stole her right out from under our noses."

"I did?"

"Christie was well-brought up, respectable, until she met you.

Now she's mixing with outlaws and wh.o.r.es."

Zee rubbed her chin. "That's how you need to see it, be my guest.

But given how he's behaving now, would you really rather she'd married Fred?"

Blue dropped his head in his hands and groaned. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"Christie'll be mighty glad to hear you don't bear her a grudge.

She's been fretting."

He doodled in the dust on the countertop. "Tell her I'm sorry."

"Why don't you tell her yourself? We've got our own place now; your sister's done it up real nice too. She'd love it if you paid us a visit." He stared at Zee as if she was crazy, and she stifled an urge to shake a sense of proportion into him. "Look. Everyone has setbacks from time to time."

He let out a hysterical laugh. "My life is in ruins, and you call 253.

it a setback?"

All this drama just because his store was going broke? Something didn't add up. "There's more to it than the store, isn't there?" He didn't answer. "Look, don't make me force it out of you." His eyes widened as he remembered who he was dealing with.

There was a long, tense silence, then he murmured, "It's Jenny."

"Jenny?"

"The blacksmith's daughter."

Zee leaned against the counter and folded her arms. "All right.

Tell me all about Jenny."

It was a tortuous job, prizing the details out of him, but eventually she managed. For nearly a year, Blue had been courting Tom Farnham's youngest girl. More than that, he had got her pregnant.

Such things weren't a scandal these days as long as the boy married the girl. And that's what Blue had wanted to do. But his dreams had turned to dust when he asked Farnham for permission . . . and was refused.

"Why in blazes?"

"Seems I'm not good enough. Oh, Farnham didn't object when I started seeing Jennymy business was in fine fettle, then, and my name had just been put forward for the Cactus Club. But after Christie took up with you . . ." Blue's voice trailed off.

Zee could imagine what had happened next. Still stinging from his treatment at Zee and Christie's hands, Fred Younger had blackballed Blue and set out to ruin him. That didn't necessarily mean an end to his prospects as Farnham's son-in-law though. Especially since the girl was pregnant.

"Why didn't you two just elope?"

"I was thinking about it, but then Jenny up and left." Blue's voice wavered and he turned away, but not before she saw his eyes were glistening.

"She left?"

"To have the baby and get rid of it. And after that, well, she's to marry Andrew LeRoy. He owns the hotel; it's doing well and" His voice broke and he stopped.

Zee filled in the blanks. Jenny's family must have applied pressure to the girl somehow and she'd given in. They'd spirited her away somewhere, to spare the family the shame that was becoming more obvious by the day. They'd also arranged to give away the baby, 254 when it was born, so nothing would stand in the way of Jenny's marriage to LeRoy.

Blue, poor sap, stood to lose not only his prospective wife but also his child. And his business was following hard on their heels. No wonder he was going to pieces.

This called for action. "I'll fetch her back for you," said Zee, wondering, even as she spoke, whether she was doing the right thing. But h.e.l.l, he's Christie's brother. I can't just stand by and watch him fall apart. "Then you two can get hitched."

He stared at her from red-rimmed eyes. "Aren't you listening to me? Jenny left me. She doesn't want me. And who can blame her?"

He gestured at himself and his surroundings. "Some catch!"

His spineless att.i.tude infuriated her. "She told you that herself?"

"No. But her father said"

"And you believed him?"

"Well" He folded his arms defensively.

"A man should fight for the woman he loves, Blue, not just let himself be trampled on like some gutless" She stopped as a glint appeared in his eyes. I may have pushed him too far.

He placed his hands flat on the counter-top and leaned forward.

"You have the nerve to come here and insult me after all you've done?" His voice rose. "This is your fault. If it hadn't been for you, Fred Younger wouldn't be trying to ruin me and my business wouldn't be on the rocks, I'd be a member of the Cactus Club and Farnham would think I was perfect for Jenny. What's more, so would she." He reached beneath the counter and produced a shotgun.

"Easy, now." Zee held up her hands, palms out. "You don't wanna be firing that thing by mistake."

"Don't I?"

The barrel was pointing at her belly. It was shaking, and the knuckle of his trigger finger was white. Her mouth went dry.

"Think, Blue, before you do something you'll regret." She reached for her hat and gloves. "How will Christie feel if you ventilate me?" She pulled on her gloves. "And killing a deputy," she tapped the tin star pinned to her vest, "ain't something you should do lightly."

His eyes were glazed, his forehead clammy.

"I'm gonna walk out of here, nice and easy. No sudden moves.

See?" She kept her voice even, as though she were talking to a 255.

skittish colt. "We'll talk about this some more in a few days. All right?"

She walked toward the door, the shotgun barrel following her all the way. By the time she reached for the handle, her shirt was sticking to the small of her back. The doorbell's tinkle was deafening in the fraught silence, and she braced herself for a shotgun blast. It didn't come. She looked back. Blue was regarding the shotgun with appalled astonishment. He released his grip, and it clattered to the counter top. Then he bowed his head and began to sob.

Should she stay and comfort him, or would that just make matters worse? Zee flipped a mental coin, shrugged, and closed the door behind her.

Man has some s.p.u.n.k after all. Shoulda figured that; he's Christie's brother.

It was only as she was walking away that she remembered the second errand that had brought her to Contention. d.a.m.n! Forgot to ask him about the piano.