Lone Wolf's Lady. Judy Duarte

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      Chapter Two

      “I’m Daisy. What can I do for you?”

      After Tom had talked to Sheriff Droeger and had his suspicions confirmed, he’d learned that a child named Sarah Jane and a woman now going by the name of Daisy Potts had moved into the Gardener’s House a few months ago. Because the sheriff said Daisy did most of the cooking and cleaning at the brothel, Tom had decided to bypass the front door and use the rear entrance.

      He hadn’t been surprised when Daisy answered his knock, but the red-haired schoolmarm standing in the kitchen like she owned the place knocked him completely off stride.

      Of course, Miss O’Malley appeared to be more than a little surprised by his arrival, too.

      “I’m afraid I need to leave now,” she told Daisy. “But I’ll be back on Saturday morning. We can talk about our trip to Wyoming then.”

      Tom had no idea what the two women planned to do in the Wyoming territory, but they wouldn’t be taking Sarah Jane with them until he was convinced that she wasn’t Caroline’s daughter.

      If he had reason to believe the girl was Caroline’s child, she was going with him to Stillwater, where she belonged.

      Of course, that was assuming that Harrison Graves had really softened and would actually claim an illegitimate child as his heir. And, to be honest, Tom had his doubts.

      Miss O’Malley glanced his way one more time, her eyes as blue as the Texas sky.

      She was a pretty one; that was a fact. And judging by the starched cotton blouse she wore buttoned to her chin, she didn’t belong in the same room with one of the women who worked at the Gardener’s House and, according to the sheriff, went by flower names.

      She watched him doe-eyed, like a fawn sighting a man from across a thicket, curious yet ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Then she seemed to rally her courage.

      “Good day,” she said, as stiff and proper as the schoolmarm she’d once been.

      He gave her a slight nod as she pushed past him, then watched as she let herself out.

      When the door snapped shut behind her, he returned his gaze to Daisy.

      The fallen woman, who was attractive in her own right, appeared to be in her early twenties and about the same age as the schoolmarm. “How can I help you?” she asked again.

      “I was sent by Harrison Graves to find his granddaughter, Caroline. And my search led me here.”

      Daisy stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “I’ve been to Casa de Los Angelitos,” Tom said, “where you and Caroline met. And I followed her trail to several different towns in Texas, ending up in Taylorsville, where you both lived for the past year. You went by the name of Erin Kelly back then and worked as a cook at the restaurant until the owner went out of business. Caroline was a clerk at the hotel.”

      Daisy drew back but didn’t deny it. Finally, she said, “If you’re looking for Caroline, she’s not here. She died a few months back.”

      “I know. And she’s survived by a daughter, a girl who’d be about six years old now.”

      Before he decided how much to divulge of what he already knew, the child who’d been bullied on the town street entered the kitchen, carrying a handmade rag doll, and approached Daisy.

      Tom hadn’t noticed a resemblance to Caroline before, although he hadn’t thought to even look for one. But he studied her carefully now.

      Her blond hair was a bit darker than her mother’s, more the color of sunflowers than fresh-churned butter. Yet there were other similarities—green eyes, a turned-up nose.

      The fairness of her skin, too, which had made young Caroline appear to be angelic to a boy with mixed blood.

      Had she also inherited her mother’s kind heart, the inner beauty that had allowed Caroline to befriend the boy known as Tom Lone Wolf when so many others in Stillwater had turned their backs on him?

      Daisy reached for Sarah Jane and drew her close. “I’m afraid I’m not able to talk to you now, so you’ll have to leave.”

      Tom wasn’t about to get into specifics in front of the child. Nor did he want to tip his hand about a possible inheritance at this point, especially with a woman who clearly could be purchased.

      “I brought the child a gift,” he said. “May I give it to her?”

      Sarah Jane looked up at Daisy, her eyes wide, seeking approval. Finally, it came with a nod.

      Tom reached inside his vest pocket and pulled a pair of beaded moccasins, as well as a small medicine bag he’d made for her when he’d learned Caroline had not only borne a daughter but kept her.

      “When I was a boy,” he said, “I knew a little girl who looked a lot like you. Her name was Caroline Graves. And one day, she did something very brave. As a reward for her bravery, my mother made her a pair of moccasins just like these.”

      “Thank you,” Sarah Jane said, as she reached for the soft deerskin gifts. “That was my mama’s name.”

      “I thought that it might be.”

      The girl studied the handmade shoes and the medicine bag, then gazed at Tom. “What did she do that was brave?”

      “She saw a grown man being mean to an Indian boy, and she told him to get off her ranch and to never come back.”

      Sarah Jane’s eyes grew wide. “What did the man do to her?”

      “He was afraid that she’d tell her grandfather, Harrison Graves, who was a very powerful man. So he left the boy alone.”

      Daisy glanced down at the child, then at a bowl of green beans that sat on the kitchen table and back to Tom. “Thank you for your gifts, Mr. McCain. And for sharing the story. But I meant what I said. Now isn’t a good time to talk.”

      “It won’t take long. I just want to ask you a few questions and get some honest answers.” Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out the twenty-dollar gold piece Harrison had given him. “Would this be enough to tempt you to find the time?”

      Daisy’s eyes, while wary, studied the coin for only a moment. “Come back Thursday morning. Most of the girls sleep in. If you come around eight, I’ll be in the kitchen. And I’ll have a pot of coffee on the stove.”

      “Fair enough.”

      Again his gaze settled on little Sarah Jane. Would Harrison see a resemblance to her mother? If so, would he take that into consideration?

      Would he be pleased to learn that Tom had found Caroline’s daughter? Or would he cast out the illegitimate child, just as he’d done to Caroline when he’d learned she was pregnant without СКАЧАТЬ