Whirlwind Baby

That was what it was. That was all it was. Still, she decided it would probably be wise to keep out of his way.

The next morning, Emma managed to stay clear of Jake Ross before and during breakfast, and finally he left with the other men for the day. On the back porch, Molly played with a doll Emma had fashioned from a piece of old linen. Emma gathered yesterday’s laundry from the clothesline a few feet away. It was strung between the porch and the henhouse. A roller wringer that squeezed water from clothes sat at the corner of the porch.

Georgia sat in a rocking chair, also keeping an eye on the baby as she shelled peas with one hand. Emma was amazed how much the other woman could do with just one hand and how well she did it. The climate was arid here, just like back in Kansas, although hotter. The breeze came too infrequently, but she wasn’t nearly as hot today as she had been yesterday while doing the wash.

Pushing her spectacles up for the tenth time, she gathered clothes, folding them and putting them into the basket Bram had fetched for her yesterday. Emma’s thoughts seemed stuck on Jake Ross. Just because she hadn’t spoken to him this morning didn’t mean she was unaware of him.

After seeing him half-dressed last night, Emma didn’t think she would ever be unaware of him. Just the memory of his hard, bare chest was enough to make her stomach dip. She hadn’t been able to look at him while serving breakfast and, thankfully, he hadn’t seemed inclined to look at her, although she felt a carefulness in his manner that made her think he remembered last night, too.

The look he’d given her, almost reluctantly it seemed, had been heated and hungry. Her skin had gone tight. No man had ever affected her that way. Emma might not have much experience with men or flirting, but she knew what happened between men and women. Her mother had told her during those weeks her stepfather had pressed her to marry Albert Crocker.

Albert had tried to kiss her once and she had pulled away. He’d been angry enough to raise his hand to her, though he hadn’t hit her. She’d refused the railroad baron’s son, not because she feared sharing his bed, but because Albert seemed to be as cruel as her stepfather. And her refusal had earned the burn scars on her back, one of the few times her mother had been unable to shield her from Orson Douglas’s wrath.

Jake Ross was a big man, with big hands, like her stepfather. Maybe it was those things that made her nervous rather than some annoying awareness of him. Emma reached the end of the clothesline and pulled down the last sheet. After giving it a snap, she folded it.

As she bent down to place the linen on top of the other laundry, she got the sense she had missed something. She hadn’t been paying strict attention to her task so she wasn’t sure. She knelt and dug through the pile of clothes that would need to be ironed. She couldn’t find her corset. Even though she knew she’d taken everything from the clothesline, she looked over her shoulder.

It wasn’t there. She was positive she’d washed it and hung it out to dry because she didn’t have it on beneath her gray work dress. And it was the only one she’d brought. Four days of hard riding to Baxter Springs to catch the train through Indian Territory into Texas had required that she and Molly travel light.

Getting a funny feeling in her stomach, Emma looked through the basket again, but didn’t find it. She stood, walking the length of the clothesline. Maybe it had blown away? But, if so, why hadn’t anything else? There were several things lighter than her stays and they had all managed to remain on the line.

“Emma, I’m taking in these peas,” Georgia called as she rose from the rocking chair. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

“No, thank you.” She thought about asking Georgia if she’d taken the corset, but why on earth would the other woman take it? Why would anyone? Besides, she and the other woman were nowhere close in size.

Emma was the one who’d been out here with the wash, yesterday and today. She was the one who should know whether or not she had everything. Last night, her employer had heard a noise. Could it have been a thief? A thief who’d stolen a corset? That was ridiculous. Emma couldn’t even fathom it.

A quick glance showed that Molly was still playing happily on her blanket, so Emma turned and walked the length of the clothesline again. She went into the henhouse, thinking that perhaps the undergarment had fallen and one of the birds had taken it. To use for a nest maybe? But, aside from straw, feathers and the eye-watering smell of ammonia, she found nothing.

Growing more perplexed and a little irritated, she came out, latching the door behind her. Keeping the baby in sight, Emma searched the side of the house, under the porch, shaded her eyes to look out over the knee-high golden-green prairie grass. She saw nothing. She had to find it. It was the only one she had. She couldn’t go around without a corset. It was improper, immodest. Brazen.

Reaching the porch, she grabbed the basket and set it in the rocking chair to dig through the pile of laundry again. Her search yielded nothing. Maybe a wild animal had taken off with it. Knowing that she might not find it made her suddenly, uncomfortably aware of her skin against the soft cotton of her chemise, the unbound freedom of her breasts. And that brought back the reminder of how Jake Ross had seen her in nothing but her nightclothes. How he’d looked at her. Oh, goodness. She had to find her corset.

She stepped off the porch, intent on searching every inch of ground. She circled the henhouse, made a wide sweep through the prairie grass behind it, but found nothing.

Muttering under her breath, she spun toward the house and came to a complete stop. Jake Ross stood at the corner of the porch with his head tilted and a quizzical look on his face. His holster hung low on his hips. How long had he been there? Good lands, he was a quiet-moving man. Heat flamed her cheeks. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. My horse threw a shoe so I came back for another one. Thought I heard someone back here. Is everything all right, Miz York?”

“Yes, certainly.” She adjusted her glasses.

His black eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure? You seem bothered.”

It would bother her more if she had to tell him. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t have to, did she? Nothing of his had been taken.

“You lose something?”

“No.” That wasn’t a lie. She knew exactly where she’d put it. It just wasn’t there.

He took a few steps toward her, his cowboy hat shading his eyes. “Is something missing?”

Why did he have to be back, anyway? she thought grumpily. Yesterday, he’d stayed gone until after dark.

He frowned. “Seeing as how I heard a noise out here last night, I’m starting to get concerned.”

And her not answering his questions was only making him more determined. “Did… Did you take anything off the clothesline last night or this morning?”

“Did someone make off with the laundry? If any of my property’s gone, Miz York, you’d best tell me.”

She shifted from one foot to the other. If she had another corset, she wouldn’t say anything about it. But she didn’t have another one. And she felt half-naked right now standing here talking to him without it.

“Listen, lady.” He took a step toward her, his gaze leveling into hers. “We had some outlaws making merry around Whirlwind not a year ago. They were known to steal clothes off lines—”

“Something’s gone, yes, but it isn’t yours.”

“Then whose? Yours?”

Embarrassment seared every inch of her, but she nodded.

“What’s gone?” Before she could answer, a slow awareness lit his eyes and his gaze slowly lowered to her breasts before returning to her face. His compelling features cautious, he cleared his throat, gesturing in her general direction. “Is it your…um, an undergarment?”

Before she could stop herself, her surprised gaze flew to his then away. How had he guessed that? She didn’t know what she would wear until she got another corset, but she would have to figure out something. She certainly had no money to buy one right now. Georgia might be willing to lend her one, but it would be too big. Even laced as tight as it would go.

Face burning, she started for the porch. His long legs covered the distance between them in two steps and he blocked her way. She stopped abruptly, stiffening.

“Miz York, I know it vexes you to talk about this. It sure as hell isn’t what I want to talk about, but you need to tell me.”

“I—I can’t.” She kept her gaze on his dusty boots.

For a moment, he didn’t speak, then he said in a gruff voice, “I sometimes serve as a deputy for the sheriff in Whirlwind.”

Emma’s stomach plummeted. A deputy? She thought she’d been so careful to avoid the law and now she was living with a sometime-lawman. What had she done?

This wasn’t the place for Molly. No, Emma corrected, quickly calming herself. It wasn’t the place for her, but it might be good for her sister. Mr. Ross’s being a lawman would be perfect for Molly.

“Over the last few months, there’s been a rash of thefts,” he said. “Farm equipment, jewelry, tools. And, lately, some things have been stolen off clotheslines. Women’s…things. Corsets.”

The word sounded rough on his tongue and a shiver rippled up her spine. Could he tell she wasn’t wearing one? She couldn’t bear the thought.

“Several women have had their…those stolen. I don’t know if the thefts are being committed by the same person, but you need to tell the sheriff.”

“Oh, no!” Her gaze flew to his. “I couldn’t! I can’t.”

It wasn’t just the humiliation of telling another man that her corset had been stolen. It was also that she needed to stay as far from Whirlwind’s sheriff as possible. If her stepfather or one of his men showed up looking for her, the sheriff would be their first stop.

Jake Ross studied the ground then glanced up. “I know it’s embarrassing for you, but we need to tell Davis Lee.” At her frown, he added, “Sheriff Holt.”

She could see he wasn’t going to let this go.

“He needs to know there’s been another theft.”

And now that Jake Ross knew, Emma would suffer anxiety every time she saw him.

She couldn’t believe she was discussing undergarments with a man. A man she’d just met. To whom she’d been lying since setting foot on his doorstep.

“Davis Lee’s discreet. You won’t need to worry about anyone finding out.”

That was slightly reassuring. “Has this happened before?”

“Not out here!”

“Are you going to tell—”

“I won’t say anything,” he said quickly. “To anyone.”

She believed him. “Thank you.”

After a moment, he said, “We should probably go today.”

We? “I’m sure I can manage the trip. I rode out here alone, after all.”

His eyes flashed hotly. “You’re not going alone. I don’t know where that thief is or if he’ll do something besides steal a woman’s—” He shifted uncomfortably as if his boots were too small. “I’m not sure if he’d do something more dangerous than steal.”

“But—”

“I’ll have the wagon ready after lunch.”

She nodded, knowing she couldn’t protest further. He’d certainly start to wonder why she was hesitant to face the sheriff. Drat it all!

He moved aside so she could step onto the porch. She bent to pick up the baby, aware that behind her he headed toward the clothesline.

As if it weren’t nerve-racking enough to talk to the sheriff, now she’d have to spend the rest of the day with Jake Ross.

Chapter Three

They reached town a couple of hours after lunch. Being without her corset made Emma uneasy enough, but the possibility that Whirlwind’s sheriff might have already gotten information on her had her palms sweating and a hard lump wedging under her ribs. Mr. Ross guided the wagon down Whirlwind’s wide Main Street and reined to a stop in front of a weathered pine building. Several steps led up to a door with a sign hanging overhead that said Jail. She did not want to go in there.

Their ride had been mostly silent, broken occasionally by some polite, inconsequential talk that Emma felt both of them thought awkward. And, of course, none of it had been about the baby. Jake Ross appeared not to know Molly was even there.

The impression Emma had of the small West Texas town was that of a dusty, but neat community. The jail sat between the Pearl Restaurant, which Mr. Ross had told her about yesterday, and the blacksmithy. A hammer struck metal and Emma glanced over to see a large black man inside a frame shop working over an anvil. He nodded politely, and she nodded back.

The low rumble of people’s voices was broken by the clop of horses’ hooves. She managed to get down out of the wagon and pick up the baby from the seat before Mr. Ross rounded the horse. Across the street behind her, she noted Haskell’s General Store, a livery and a saloon.

She mounted the steps with her employer, pushing the glasses up her nose and tightening her hold on Molly. Despite the late August heat, Emma had worn a light shawl in an effort to make it less noticeable that she wasn’t wearing a corset.

Mr. Ross opened the door then followed her inside. The smells of pine and soap mixed with the clean male scent of the man who’d insisted she come. A handsome dark-haired man wearing a badge rose from behind a wide oak desk. A glass-front cabinet behind him held four shotguns. The lawman gave her a friendly smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “Howdy, ma’am. Jake.”

“Davis Lee Holt.” Mr. Ross took off his hat, gesturing toward Emma. “This is Miz York. She’s the lady we hired to care for the baby.”

“Miz York.” The sheriff smiled at Molly, who turned her head shyly into Emma’s neck.

The man seemed friendly and not the least suspicious, but that didn’t ease the tightness across Emma’s chest. Or keep her from mentally checking the derringer in her skirt pocket. On the wall behind him hung two Wanted posters and a notice about a circuit judge. Nothing about a runaway or kidnapped daughter. Which didn’t mean the sheriff was ignorant about her, just that there was nothing on that wall. Being on her guard, almost paranoid, was becoming second nature.

“Little Molly looks good.”

Emma wondered how the sheriff knew the child’s name, then recalled that Jake Ross had stopped by the jail the day he and his uncle had brought Molly to town to post flyers advertising for the position of baby nurse.

The rancher stepped up beside Emma, his big body surrounding her like a wall, close enough that she could feel the sun’s heat from his shirt. She wished this were over, wished she’d never had to come. If Mr. Ross hadn’t found her searching for her corset, she wouldn’t have mentioned a thing about it.

“What brings you two to town today?” The sheriff, who was two or three inches taller than the other man, eased down on the corner of his desk.

Mr. Ross glanced at Emma and said in a low voice, “If you’d rather speak to the sheriff alone, I can wait outside.”

“No,” she said quickly. The thought of him leaving her alone in the jail tied her stomach in a knot. Which just went to show how nervous she was about being face-to-face with the sheriff if she felt safer with Mr. Ross staying in here.

The baby grabbed at Emma’s glasses, yanking them across her nose. She pulled her half sister’s hand away, trying to decide how to delicately report what had been stolen.

Mr. Ross didn’t wait on her. “There was a theft at my ranch last night. One of those thefts.”

The sheriff politely kept his gaze on the rancher, but Emma was aware that the lawman’s attention sharpened. “Same piece as what was taken a week or so ago?”

“Yes.”

Heat flushed Emma’s cheeks and she held Molly tighter to her breasts, feeling practically naked.

Behind her, the door flew open and a feminine voice exclaimed, “Davis Lee, there’s been another one! Oh.”

A broad grin spread across the sheriff’s face. “Hello, wife.”

Emma looked over her shoulder to see a petite brunette move into the room beaming at Sheriff Holt. She tore her gaze from him to look at Mr. Ross. “Hello, Jake.”

“Miz Josie.”

Her warm green gaze lit on Emma and she stuck out a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Josie Holt.”

“Emma York.” She shook hands, thinking she would probably like the sheriff’s wife if given a chance to know her.

“Oh, I should’ve been quicker with an introduction,” Mr. Ross apologized.

“It’s all right.” The other woman smiled then looked at her husband. “I’m sorry. I can see I’ve interrupted.”

He nodded, an indulgent and amused look on his handsome features. As his wife reached out to touch Molly’s blond hair, a look of painful longing flitted across her pretty features. “What a darling baby. This is the little girl someone left at your house, Jake?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said stiffly.

It didn’t escape Emma’s notice that his voice had changed the instant the baby was mentioned. Nor did she miss the fleeting glances that both the sheriff and his wife gave the man, looks that appeared to be compassion. Emma turned her head to prevent the baby from grabbing her spectacles. If anyone should get their compassion, it should be Molly, especially if the man who’d taken her in didn’t want her.

“Hi there, little one.” Josie Holt bent, looking into the baby’s eyes as she stroked her cheek. “Would you let me hold you?”

Emma didn’t think her half sister would go, but, when the sheriff’s wife opened her arms, Molly studied her soberly then went. Without her sibling’s tiny body covering her chest, Emma felt it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a corset. She drew the light shawl tighter around herself and made herself very still, the way she did when her stepfather went into one of his tempers.

“Aren’t you a beauty?” Josie murmured, fingering Molly’s fine blond curls. Her voice cracked. “Isn’t she pretty, Davis Lee?”

“Yes.” His gaze touched briefly on the child, then riveted on his wife, and the tender look on his face had Emma’s heart clenching.

Molly grasped a button on Mrs. Holt’s blue gingham bodice and the woman touched the baby’s nose. “You did just fine by finding yourself at Jake’s, little one.”

Emma wondered if the woman would still think so if she knew how quickly the rancher had removed himself from the baby yesterday morning. The sheriff’s wife brushed a light kiss against Molly’s temple before returning her to Emma. From the corner of her eye, Emma could tell that Jake Ross was looking away.

Josie walked over to her husband and said in a low voice, “When you’re finished, would you come to the shop? There’s been another one.”

Beside Emma, her employer snapped to attention. “Beggin’your pardon, Miz Josie, but do you mean another theft? Of…you know?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Emma caught the look Mr. Ross shared with Sheriff Holt, who reached out and took his wife’s hand. “I’ll come as soon as I’ve finished talking to Miz York.”

It was a bit of a relief to know that Mrs. Holt had also been a victim of the embarrassing theft. And, if Josie Holt stayed, maybe Emma wouldn’t have to say much.

“You may as well stay, Mrs. Holt,” she offered tentatively. “That’s why I’m here, too.”

“No!” Josie’s gaze shot to Emma and she whispered, “A…corset?”

The sheriff chuckled. “Honey, we can hear you.”

Smiling, she swatted at him, looking to Emma for an answer.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Last night?”

Emma nodded, adjusting her spectacles.

“Oh, my stars.” Josie clutched at her husband’s hand. “Davis Lee, you’ve got to do something. This can’t go on.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Josie. There are those other thefts I have to worry about, too.”

“I thought the only garments being stolen were ones I’d made, but this most recent theft—the two most recent thefts—those pieces weren’t made by me. You have to do something.”

The lawman looked at Emma. “When did you first notice it was gone?”

“A few hours ago.” So, Mrs. Holt was a seamstress. The sheriff’s blue gaze was steady and probing, making Emma feel he might know she didn’t need these glasses, that her eyesight was just fine.

The possibility that he might find out who she was, why she was in Whirlwind had her skin prickling. “I did the wash yesterday and left everything on the line to dry overnight.”

Mr. Ross’s deep voice rumbled out, “Late last night, I heard a noise outside, but when I looked around, I couldn’t find any sign of anyone. Didn’t realize then that Miz York’s cors—” A dull flush colored his neck. “That anything had been taken off the line.”

“What time was that?”

“I’d say just after midnight.”

“Was it one of your finer garments?” Josie asked Emma, her gaze lingering on the baby.

“Yes.”

Jake Ross didn’t look at Emma or do anything that might indicate he was thinking about their meeting half-dressed in the kitchen after midnight. But she felt a tension stretch between them and she knew he was thinking about it. Because she was.

Josie Holt nodded. “Pearl said hers was taken after dark last night. She discovered it when she went to the clothesline before bed.”

“Pearl Anderson owns the Pearl Restaurant,” Mr. Ross reminded Emma.

“Did she hear anything?” the sheriff asked his wife.

“She said no.”

Sheriff Holt rose and moved behind his desk, opening a drawer in the middle and pulling out a leather-covered book. He flipped through a couple of pages then glanced at his sometime-deputy. “You made note when the last theft like this was reported.”

“Yeah. It was Susannah’s.” Jake stepped around Emma to confer with the lawman. “If I recollect, it was just a little over a week ago.”

As the men discussed dates of the other thefts, Josie eased up to Emma and said quietly, “Susannah is married to Davis Lee’s brother.”

Emma nodded.

“If you need another dress corset, I want you to come by my shop and get one.”

Emma needed a corset, period. But she didn’t have the money to buy one.

The seamstress seemed to sense why she hesitated and said kindly, “I want to give it to you. This is no kind of welcome to a new town.”

Touched, Emma was speechless for a moment. The woman didn’t even know her. “I can’t, but thank you. Really.”

“You can put it on account.”

Emma couldn’t do that, either. What if she and Molly had to run in the middle of the night? Emma wouldn’t be able to pay on the account for a long while and that would be a reminder of her to these people. A reminder she couldn’t afford if her stepfather or his man came looking for her. “I can come in after I get my first wages.”

Josie looked as if she might insist, then smiled warmly. “All right then.”

Behind them, the door opened. Emma turned to see a tall, red-haired girl who looked to be a few years younger than her.

“Mrs. Holt,” the newcomer said. “I locked up the shop and I’m taking lunch to Zeke, if that’s all right.”

“Of course, Zoe. Thanks for letting me know.”

“I won’t be long.”

“All right.” Josie smiled. As the other woman backed out of the office and closed the door, Josie’s attention came back to Emma. “That’s Zoe Keeler. She works for me. Zeke is her younger brother.”

Emma nodded.

Closing the book, the sheriff said to the other man, “I’m gonna come out to the Circle R later on and look around.”

“I figured you would.”

Emma’s heartbeat sped up.

“Can you think of anything else that might be helpful?”

“No.” Her boss looked at Emma with the same question in his eyes.

“I don’t think so,” she said. She hoped the sheriff wouldn’t ask for a description of the garment.

“All right then.” Davis Lee looked thoughtful. “This is the first time this thief has struck twice in one night. I wonder why.”

“I wish he or she would quit it!” his wife burst out. “People are going to stop buying clothing from me.”