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  Emily thought rapidly. "For now, at least let me fix the page I caused you to ruin. I feel so guilty about that. If you find my work satisfactory, I can continue. Anyway, it's a chore I can do sitting down, just in case I were to get dizzy. Then later, perhaps tomorrow, I can take on some other duties."

  Nellie studied Emily for a long moment. The older woman tilted her head to one side and swept a keen, bird-like gaze over Emily from head to feet.

  "You're a strange young woman," she said after a moment. "I'm sure there's more to you than we've been shown so far. But here in Tombstone, we're more concerned with a person's present than her past. Wherever you've come from and why you left are of no concern to me, so long as you do an honest day's work and behave as a lady should. There are places in this town where a loose woman is welcome, but this is not one of them. I want you to know that right now, not that I suspect you of impropriety, but just so it's understood."

  Emily nodded. "I don't think I would do well in one of the saloons or...well, it's just not my style." She found herself blushing, imagining the horror of trying to dance in a skimpy costume or serve drinks to rowdy miners and cowboys.

  Nellie stood, placed the pen to one side of the ledger, and moved past Emily out of the little room. "Wait, what am I thinking-you won't know what to enter in the ledger unless I explain."

  Nellie took a few moments to show Emily how she kept her daily accounts of receipts and expenses for the boarding house before she left her to the task. It was not complicated. Emily had no problem with setting up a new page, transferring the figures smudged by the pen, or finishing the entries from the notes and receipts.

  Still, it was slow work, carefully penning figures into the narrow lines and columns. Long before she was done, her fingers cramped and the pen seemed to take on a mind of its own. Emily found herself wishing for her computer with its spreadsheet program, which would make short work of this project. But for all that, she was glad to have found something useful to do and to know she would not be relying solely on charity for her needs.

  The next day, she began her new duties in earnest. After changing beds and placing new towels in the rooms, she helped Angelina serve the midday meal to the boarders and others who came in for some good home-cooked food. As she entered the dining room with a loaded tray, Emily noticed Zachary Tremaine among the men waiting for dinner. At almost the same instant, he saw and recognized her. A smile lit his face.

  "Miss Dennison! It's good to see you up and about. I trust you're suffering no ill effects from your accident?"

  Emily felt a flutter in the vicinity of her heart when she met his bright silvery gaze. For a moment, she couldn't think of a suitable reply.

  "No, uh, I'm quite well, thank you. And Mrs. Cashman has kindly given me work here so I needn't be a burden on anyone while I-well, until I can arrange to go back."

  When he shot her a sharp look, Emily realized her wording must have sounded strange. She would have to be very careful what she said. How could she even begin to explain her situation without sounding like a raving lunatic? He'd probably expected her to take the next stage back to Fort Huachuca.

  Fortunately for Emily, another boarder, anxious for his dinner, spoke up rather sharply from down the table. She moved on to put out more dishes, while she pondered how to express her predicament. She wasn't quite sure how people adjudged insane were handled in 1889, but she really didn't want to find out!

  Once all the boarders were served, Emily and Angelina had time to eat, sitting in a corner of the kitchen. Afterwards, they hurried to gather up the dishes and wash them for the next meal. There were few leftovers. Most of the men cleaned their plates and took seconds if any were available.

  When the chores were done, Emily had a bit of time to herself before she had to help with the evening meal. Before she stepped out into the alley beyond the kitchen door, she took off the voluminous apron Nellie had lent her. A breeze sent a puff of dust and a ragged tumbleweed scooting past her feet. The heat hit her like a slap in the face, instantly drying the perspiration she'd worked up in the steamy kitchen. She squinted against the burning glare of the midday sun.

  A few steps away, a wooden fence sheltered the garden courtyard, surrounded on three sides by the boarding house and an adjacent building. Under three tall, gray-barked cottonwood trees, a patch of grass grew. The spot looked wonderfully cool, inviting and familiar. A huge rose bush, almost covered in pale pink blooms, dominated one side of the small yard, dispersing a sweet scent that hung heavy in the air. Emily pushed the gate open and stepped into the lovely little oasis.

  She advanced several steps into the shade before she saw a pair of gray-clad legs sticking out from behind the largest of the trees-or was it only two strange roots? When the root-legs suddenly moved, she barely stifled a shriek. Then, she saw the limbs belonged to Zachary Tremaine, who stood and turned to face her. She stopped, trying to recover from her shock, suddenly uneasy about confronting him alone. Perhaps an apology for her interruption was in order.

  "Oh, I'm sorry for intruding. After the heat of the kitchen, this little yard looked so inviting."

  Even before he replied, she suddenly knew what he would say. She'd been here before, or at least had read his version of this very meeting. That awareness sent a weird shiver over her body.

  "You're certainly not intruding. I haven't any claim to this spot but even if I did, I'd be happy to share with you." He smiled, flashing a dimple in his left cheek.

  In person and up close, he was even more charming than the glimpses she'd seen of him in her dreams. Emily fought a sudden dizziness that had nothing to do with her injury and everything to do with the acceleration of her heartbeat, the dryness of her mouth-and the unsettling presence of Zachary Tremaine.

  She couldn't help being charmed. Returning his smile, she brushed a few wisps of sweat-sticky hair away from her face. "There aren't many cool, green places here, are there?"

  "Not many," Zach agreed. "But trust me to find one. After that dinner, I had to sit quietly for a while before I could tackle the sun and wind again. But I'd almost fallen asleep-so I'm glad you came along to join me."

  "Are you a miner, then, working the evening shift?"

  "Oh no, I'm just here on, well, you might call it a quest. And to write about the colorful characters and life in a mining camp before I go back to Philadelphia. I'm a reporter, actually. I work for the Philadelphia Chronicle-Star."

  He was so tall. Standing beside him, Emily had to tip her head back to look at him. He seemed to notice, for he gestured toward the tree beneath which he had been sitting.

  "Come on. We can sit and talk a while. I'll get a chair so you won't get grass stains on your skirt."

  He went inside and came back with a straight chair from the dining room. A perfect gentleman, he held the chair for her before he sprawled on the grass near her feet. Actually, that grass looked much more comfortable than the chair, but she'd be rude to say so. Behaving like a lady was going to be harder than she had expected. Manners had made some drastic changes in a hundred and eleven years.

  Emily caught Zach looking curiously at her white running shoes. She tucked them safely beneath the billowing hem of her skirt and attempted to distract him with a question. "You mentioned a quest?"

  His attention returned to her face.

  "It's a long tale and not altogether a happy one. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

  Emily nodded. "Oh yes. A quest sounds so exciting, like the Knights of the Round Table."

  "There's a damsel in distress, too, though she's hardly a princess." Zach's chuckle sounded wry, maybe even forced. "She's my sister, my little sister..." He shook his head, a melancholy expression crossing his face before he went on.

  "Our father was a minister, and he had definite ideas of what was proper behavior for his son and daughter. He was strict with me but even more so with Mary Ann. When she turned sixteen, she caught the eye of a boy of whom Dad disapproved, mainly because he didn't attend ou
r church, I think. He forbade her to have anything to do with this lad, and even went out of his way to warn the boy off. Mary Ann was furious. I didn't learn what she planned until it was too late to stop her, but she ran away from home."

  "Oh dear," Emily murmured. "That's not a wise thing to do, not ever."

  "Especially for her. Mary Ann was as innocent and naive as a newborn lamb. In no time at all, she fell into bad company. Father disowned her and ordered us never to mention her name in the home. That broke my mother's heart, so after he passed on some months ago, I promised Mamma I would find Mary Ann and bring her safely home. It's taken some doing, but I traced her here, and sure enough, she's in Tombstone. I saw her just the other day."

  Words from the journal crowded Emily's mind until she had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting them. "Oh my," she said, after a moment. "You've found her?"

  "Yes, but that's only the first step. Now I have to get her away from that scoundrel who's taking advantage of her. A cheap gambler by the name of Joker Jake McEuen, he has no idea how to treat a lady! She's scared to death of him. I spoke to her day before yesterday, just before I discovered you lying in the street, actually. But I wasn't able to find out where they're staying yet."

  Emily watched him, fascinated, rehearing the very words she had read in the journal. "Tombstone isn't terribly big. It shouldn't be too hard."

  "Well, it seems they don't live in town. They're probably out at Charleston or Fairbanks. She had a horse and a buckboard, coming in for some supplies. Jake has a horse he rides, a black one. Fast too, well suited for his type, in case a quick escape is needed, but she was driving a sorry nag that could barely trot."

  Zach fell silent for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists in a manner that revealed the depths of his distress. Emily sympathized with his frustration and anger, feeling now the strength of emotion his journal had not always conveyed.

  Somehow, she had to help. In fact, that had to be why she was here! The knowledge swept over her suddenly, a sense too positive to doubt. Her presence here had a purpose, and if she accomplished it, perhaps she'd be allowed to go home.

  "Maybe I can help," she said, reaching to put her hand lightly over one of his. "What does your sister look like? I can watch for her, maybe talk to her whenever she comes to town again. McEuen shouldn't see me as a threat."

  Zach looked up, almost as if she had startled him, as if he'd forgotten briefly that she was there. His gaze dropped for an instant to her hand, atop his, and then moved back to her face.

  "We can't wait," he said. "I need to get her started for home as soon as possible or it will be too late. She's...well, she's in the family way and I'm afraid she won't be able to travel much longer. I don't know much about that condition, but I've heard stories."

  "If she's healthy, she ought to be all right."

  Zach shot a pointed look at her. "I ought not even to speak of it to an unmarried lady. I'm sorry. I forgot myself."

  "Where I come from, we're not so delicate about such things." Emily stopped short at Zach's shocked expression. She quickly changed subject in mid-stream. "I suppose riding on the stagecoach is a bit rough, but isn't there a railroad?"

  "Of course, in Benson, about twenty five miles to the north. Didn't you come out on the train?"

  He looked at her with frank suspicion.

  "I fl...er, yes, I did. I came on the train." Emily realized she had almost tripped herself up several times. So much has changed, little things and huge things; it's entirely too easy to say something out of line!

  He still looked at her with narrowed eyes and no trace of a smile.

  "It was actually quite comfortable. Didn't you think so?" Wrong! She was speaking too quickly, too brightly, and he was much too shrewd to be fooled.

  "There's something very strange about you, Miss Dennison. I can't quite put a finger on it, but I shall in time. What are you hiding?"

  At his frosty tone, a chilling wave of regret swept over Emily. For a moment, she'd thought they were going to become friends.

  "If I tried to explain you'd think I was madder than a sun-struck Englishman," she said. "So I won't try. I've come a long way. That's all I can say. I'm not trying to pull anything over or work a scam on anyone, I swear. And I really would like to help you rescue your sister."

  His face relaxed somewhat. "Whatever a 'scam' is, I don't think I want to know. I do want to believe you, though I'm not sure why. I'm usually a good judge of character, and something tells me you're not lying. But there's a mystery here I can't ignore. I'm a reporter, you know, and maybe a bit of a detective since I tracked Mary Ann clear across the country."

  Before Emily could reply, Angelina called to her from the gate. For once she was relieved to be summoned back to work. "We'll talk again," she said, as she bounced up and shook the wrinkles out of her skirt. "And please believe me, if I can help you, I'd be happy to do anything I can."

  Emily didn't wait for Zach's reply but scurried across to the gate, out it and into the kitchen. Her heart hammered as if she'd run a footrace. Things were going to be even more complicated than she'd guessed. Already both Nellie and Zach had shown more than a hint of suspicion about her. How long would she be able to keep her secret?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Zach stood to watch Emily's precipitous departure. She was definitely nervous about something. He shook his head, thoroughly puzzled. The more he learned, the more confused he became. She seemed so sincere, he found it hard to believe she was up to anything nefarious, but he'd certainly never met anyone remotely like her before.

  She'd been so matter of fact when he mentioned Mary Ann's condition. Most young women would blush and swoon at the mere hint of such matters. Yet she'd said or done nothing to make him suspect her of being loose or immoral, just odd.

  He took a deep breath and puffed it out thoughtfully. Well, he had other concerns to deal with now, so Miss Emily Dennison would just have to wait. She wasn't likely to vanish before tomorrow, in any case. There was no way out of Tombstone until the next stage unless she bought or stole a horse. Since she was working, it seemed likely she didn't have a source of funds to draw on for a ticket or the rental of a horse and conveyance. Which in itself was peculiar, if she was visiting at Fort Huachuca.

  Deep in thought, he followed her footsteps out of the yard, but instead of entering the kitchen, he continued on down the alley until it emerged on Fourth Street. He glanced across at The Lucky Cuss saloon, which sat on the southeast corner of Fourth and Allen, and scanned the hitching rack in front of the saloon. Sure enough, Jake's black horse waited there, standing hip-shot and drowsy as if he'd been tied for a while.

  Zach nodded, a plan taking shape in his mind. His city clothes stood out like a beacon. It was time he changed his style. Instead of heading for The Lucky Cuss, he went the other way and entered the dry goods store a half block north of Nellie's. He bought two pairs of Levis, three plaid flannel shirts and a pair of stitched Mexican boots with high wooden riding heels.

  A broad-brimmed dust-gray hat caught his eye as he took his purchases to the shopkeeper. He tried the hat on. It fit as if made for him. An omen. He had to have that hat.

  The purchases took a good bite out of his spare cash but they'd be worth every cent. Now he wouldn't look the obvious dude and draw too much attention. It wouldn't take more than a day or two for the Levis to get sufficiently dusty and used in appearance and a quick dip in the water trough at the stable would take the new off his hat. Grinning his satisfaction, he carried his new clothes back to his room and changed before he left again.

  This time he went directly to The Lucky Cuss and stepped through the swinging doors as if he'd done it daily for half his life. Two poker games were in progress at tables in the rear of the bar. He recognized Jake, sitting facing the front but too engrossed in his cards to pay Zach any attention.

  Zach went to the other table and put down his money. The dealer was a gaunt, blond man with a pale complexion and a consumptive l
ook. He gave Zach a thin smile as he dealt him into the game.

  For a while, Zach won and lost about evenly, but finally the cards began to go his way. He'd learned a lot playing penny ante games with the other reporters back in the newsroom. Those lessons served him well now. After he recouped the amount he'd spent for his new clothes and a bit more, he gathered his winnings and took his leave. No use pushing his luck too far.

  Even while playing, he'd managed to overhear bits of the conversation at Jake's table, and gleaned a couple of tidbits of information. Now was a good time to act on them, before the gambler closed up shop for the day or got into a confrontation with a couple of the men he was playing against, which seemed a likely possibility. They were both losing badly and were clearly not happy to see their wages slipping away.

  Zach whistled softly to himself as he headed for the stable. Time to rent a horse again and ride out of town. With luck, he'd be back in time for supper, but if not, he'd gone hungry before with no lasting ill effects.

  The bay he rented might not be a match for Jake's black in a race, but he suspected it could get over the rocky ground with a surer step than the sleek thoroughbred. He wasn't planning to race today, but to take the shortest route to Charleston, some eight miles from Tombstone. From a remark Jake had made, he was now living there in a shack rented from one of the mill workers.

  Swinging into the saddle, Zach urged his mount into an easy trot. He followed the road out of town, not taking a short cut through the hills until he was out of sight. He'd looked around and not seen anyone watching, but it always paid to be careful.

  Soon he came upon a well-worn path, probably used by others to shorten the distance between the mining camp and the mill. To make time, he followed it for a while, urging the bay to a faster pace, but left the path well before he reached the other town.

  On a ridge above the town site, he reined in. Charleston and Mill Town sprawled along the banks of the San Pedro river for a half-mile or so. Directly below him, the hills on each side narrowed to squeeze the stream between them. There, an earthen dam had been built, making a pond from which the smelter and mill could draw water.