Heart Of The Lawman. Linda Castle
his eyes. “Sorry, the Lavender Lady ain’t for sale.” The more he talked to Ted Kelts, the less he liked him. “Not today or any day.”
Ted uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. “You’re a cattle man, O’Bannion. I know you’re running your own head along with Hollenbeck stock. Why would you want a broken-down mine to worry over? It’s probably worthless anyway, but I’d be a whole lot more able to get it open again than you would.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Flynn said.
“Then—why won’t you sell?” Ted looked perplexed.
“I’m riding for the Hollenbeck brand now. Victoria made it plain she wants Rachel to have all the Hollenbeck property—just as it is. And just for future reference, I haven’t got a price.”
Kelts snapped his head around and looked at Moses. “Is this legal?”
“Legal as Victoria’s money and my skill could make it.” No small amount of pride sparkled in the dusky depths of Moze’s eyes and he was working hard not to grin. “I’d like to see somebody find a loophole in one of my documents. Damned near ironclad. Write them so nobody can break them,” he added under his breath.
Ted sat motionless as a tombstone. His eyes narrowed for half a second, then he stood and tugged his vest down. “Well, I guess that’s my answer—for today, O’Bannion. But I’m a man who usually gets what he goes after, so I’m sure we’ll be talking again.”
Flynn leaned away from the wall and nodded. “About anything you want, Kelts, but when it comes to the Lavender Lady, the answer will still be no. That is my last word on the subject.”
“I didn’t get where I am by giving in easily.” Ted extended his hand to Flynn. “No hard feelings?”
“I wouldn’t fault a businessman for doing what comes natural to him.”
“Glad to hear it.” Ted pulled his watch chain and drew a fancy pocket piece from his vest. “I’ll take my leave now.” Ted nodded at Moses and Flynn. “Thanks for the coffee, Moze.”
“Don’t mention it. By the way, Ted, I heard you was headed back east?”
Kelts frowned and slipped the watch back where it came from. “News does travel fast in Hollenbeck Corners. Yes, I have some business in Washington.”
“Taking up politics, are you?” Moses smiled like a fox.
“The thought has crossed my mind.” Ted smiled and turned to Flynn. “Think about what I said, O’Bannion.”
When Ted closed the outside door, Flynn eased himself down into the solitary leather chair.
“More coffee?” Moses offered.
“Naw.” Flynn shook his head. “This stuff would rust a horseshoe, Moze.”
Moses blinked and stared at his own cup. “Really?”
Flynn shook his head and set down his cup. With Kelts gone, his thoughts settled firmly on the letter in his pocket.
“Whiskey, then?” Moses offered as he opened his desk drawer and brought out a brand-new bottle of Cutter and Miller.
“A little early for that, wouldn’t you say?” Flynn frowned at the attorney.
“You tell me? You look like a dog chewing on a tough piece of hide.” Moses leaned back and laced his fingers behind the shock of unruly white hair. “Maybe you need a woman. Beatrice has a new girl over at the sportin’ house. Name is Annabelle—ain’t that a hoot•such a fancy name for a whore? Has hair the color of molten copper.”
Flynn’s frowned deepened. “I didn’t come here to get directions to the cathouse, Moze.”
“And here I-was thinking that maybe you had lost your way. I happen to know you haven’t visited Beatrice and her girls for two years,” Moses went on, ignoring Flynn’s glower. “It ain’t healthy, Flynn. A man can get all backed up—ruin your digestion—shorten your life. It’s a medical fact. Dr. Goodfellow over in Tombstone told me so.”
“I don’t need a woman,” Flynn repeated with a flinty voice.
“I haven’t seen a look so mournful since the last lynchin’ bee over in Millville. If it isn’t a woman you need, then what has put that hangdog look on your face? Trouble with your cattle? Little Rachel?”
“No trouble with Rachel or the cattle.”
“Why don’t you get rid of those critters? They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Easy for you to say. That’s what I do for a living now, Moze. A grown man has to have a livelihood.”
The lawyer snorted. “You don’t need the money.” Moze’s hand fell to the desktop and he shook his head in amazement. “Guardianship of Rachel pays you a nice annuity—I write out the bank draft, remember?”
Flynn shifted in the chair and scowled at Moses but he didn’t say anything.
“You haven’t touched it, have you?” His brows rose until they nearly touched his hairline, and his eyes widened. “It’s all just sitting there in the bank, isn’t it?”
Flynn shook his head. “I didn’t come here to talk about that damned money. I didn’t want it in the first place.”
“You are a strange duck, Flynn O’Bannion.” Moses shook his head in disbelief.
“Look, it’s bad enough to be living in the Hollenbeck house like it was my own.” Flynn’s voice trailed off. It was hard to put into words the way he felt about caring for Rachel, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to take money for it.
Moses laughed and rocked back in his chair, then laced his hands behind his head again. “You are a dying breed. All right, if that isn’t what’s stuck in your craw, then tell me what is.”
Flynn drew the envelope from his shirt pocket and held it out.
“What’s this?” Moses unclasped his fingers and leaned forward across the mammoth desk.
“Look at the address.” Flynn shoved the paper closer.
Moses took the letter. His eyes flitted across the tattered envelope. When he glanced back up at Flynn he was frowning; all traces of humor were gone. “Why haven’t you opened it?”
Because I felt like I was violating Marydyth Hollenbeck’s privacy just looking it. Because I have never been able to forget the hatred in her blue eyes or how she held her head high when she walked through the gates of Yuma.
“You’re the Hollenbeck attorney,” Flynn answered with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “I brought it to you.”
“Victoria Hollenbeck’s attorney—not Marydyth’s.” Moses handed the envelope back to Flynn. “This is your domain. You better open it.”
Flynn drew back his hand as if the letter were afire. “It’s probably.personal.”
“Maybe, but it looks like it has taken the long way round coming here—how personal could it be when the sender didn’t even know the Black Widow had been sent to prison?”
A muscle in the side of Flynn’s jaw began to work. He hated the name the townspeople had pinned on Marydyth. For Rachel’s sake.
“It doesn’t seem right.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Moses snatched up the envelope and ripped open one end. A page fluttered to the top of the desk. He carefully unfolded the brittle paper. It was a heavy cream-colored stationery. He held it up to the light. Flynn could see the distinctive watermark of a clipper ship. Then Moses squinted his eyes, ducked his chin and started to read.
A hard knot formed in Flynn’s gizzard. He didn’t feel right about any of this.
“Well,