The Legacy Read online

  “I’ve been wanting to help you for years but you wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried to get close to you, you ran like a rabbit.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You look just like Marilyn when she was a young woman.”

  Rosalyn resisted the urge to feel her face, to find her mother. “Is that good?”

  Elsa shrugged. “I think so. You’re as beautiful as she was. You also remind the town of what they did, what they shouldn’t have done.” The frown returned. “I want you to live here and work at the restaurant.”

  Fear skittered down Rosalyn’s back. “I can’t stay here. People hate me.”

  “I don’t care. Your mother was my friend and I owe both of you more than the best slops in town.” Elsa cleared her throat. “I don’t want to force you, Rosie, but I will if I have to.”

  The determination on the older woman’s face told Rosalyn that she meant every word of it. A place to live and this heavenly kitchen were almost appealing. However, her heart ached for another place, another person to call her own.

  “Can my cat come live here too?” Rosalyn wouldn’t want to leave Whiskers behind.

  “I’ll feed her, but she’ll have to sleep outside. I’ve got an old crate we can set up for her bed.” Elsa frowned. “At least we won’t have too many critters nibbling at the food with a cat around.”

  “Thank you.” Rosalyn’s mind drifted to the one person she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “I know the sheriff is on your mind. I won’t come between you, but for now, stay with me. Dickinson is watching him like a hawk, and I’ve seen Seeger and his thugs hanging around town too much too.” Elsa wagged her finger. “It’s not safe for you to be alone.”

  Although it seemed impossible, Rosalyn felt that Elsa truly cared what happened to her. It had been so long, so long since anyone had cared she even existed, and now this. Two people had demonstrated that the world wasn’t always a dark place. A small spear of light shone on her.

  “Can I go visit him whenever I want to?” As she gulped more milk, her entire body shook with the force of impending change.

  Elsa really smiled this time. “He comes in here for three meals a day. If you need to see him any more than that, you might as well marry him.”

  ———

  The sun shone brightly on Monday as Noah walked to Elsa’s. He hadn’t given up on finding Rosalyn, but he had concentrated on being the sheriff. His days had been full of drunks, a few petty thefts and one prank on an outhouse that made him laugh so hard he almost hurt himself. Rosalyn would have laughed even harder.

  As he passed the telegram office, he heard a whistle. He poked his head in the door.

  “You’ve got a reply to one of your telegrams, Sheriff.” Kenneth Smith held out a piece of yellow paper.

  Noah snatched it as nicely as he could and tipped his hat. “Much obliged, Smith.”

  He dashed out the door and opened the telegram. His worst fears were realized. Seeger had lied about his land boundaries. The five hundred acres he claimed were his actually belonged to Finley. Perhaps Seeger was confused. No, not possible. He had been crystal clear about the acreage, maybe hoping Noah would be as docile as Sheriff Boyton.

  Seeger was mistaken. Noah wouldn’t let one rancher take advantage of another for any reason. There was too much ugliness in the world to allow it to continue if he could do something to stop it.

  A memory of his real mother burst into his head, of her doing what she had to do to survive, on her knees for the man she worked for. Noah closed his eyes and willed away the image.

  He should’ve kept his eyes open. Before he could react, two men yanked him into the alley behind the hotel, and in the shadows, started beating him, using fists, boots and what Noah thought was a club. Pain speared through him as he fought against them. They’d punched him in the eyes first, making it even harder to see.

  He reached for his gun, but it wasn’t in the holster. Agony exploded when they kicked him in the balls. He couldn’t catch his breath, could only will away the black spots dancing behind his eyes.

  “Bastard. You think you can come in here and be part of this town? You ain’t even lived here a’fore.”

  He recognized the voice, but couldn’t place it. However, the man’s sentiment was well known to Noah—he’d heard it many times before. As a hand reached down to cover his mouth, he clamped hold of it and bit as hard as he could while he kicked out. Noah fought like an animal, the fear and fury warring within him. The coppery taste of blood coated his tongue and he knew he’d caused at least a bit of pain to his attacker.

  “Fuck! He won’t let go of my hand,” the first one complained.

  The second one kicked him in the kidneys and Noah knew a moment where he thought he was going to pass out from the anguish. Again and again the boot landed on his back. He flipped over and let go of the hand in his mouth, only to feel another crunch his bones with a stone-hard fist.

  Amidst the grunts and curses, he heard a howling meow and a hiss, and something that sounded like a screaming banshee. The screech echoed through the alley and Noah thanked God for whatever spirits were watching over him.

  “What the hell was that? Sounds like a goddamn ghost.”

  The smell of tobacco and cheap whiskey floated past Noah’s nose. His attacker leaned in closer.

  “Do what you’re told, boy, or this will seem like a Sunday school kiss.”

  Noah lurched forward and head-butted the man, earning a hot spray of blood on his face. Boots scraped and curses littered the air. The banshee screeched again and within seconds the men were gone.

  Every inch of his body throbbed, some more than others. He spat out a mouthful of the other man’s blood and swallowed the bile that rose from the taste. A small coarse tongue started licking his face. Noah focused on a calico cat staring at him with golden eyes.

  “My angel?” he said rustily.

  “Sheriff Calhoun, looks like you need my help after all. Your deputy is back.” Rosalyn’s image danced in front of his eyes, then a rush of blackness overwhelmed him.

  Chapter Eight

  With Elsa’s help, and some kindly folks from the restaurant, they carried Noah back to the jail. The town doctor, Eldred Ramsey, arrived and Rosalyn stayed downstairs while he tended to Noah. He’d looked awful, covered in blood with swollen eyes and what she thought was a broken nose. Marina and Elsa paid Doctor Ramsey and he left without even glancing at Rosalyn.

  Elsa had been right. The town ignored her intentionally—she was a painful reminder of what a mob could and would do. Whiskers wound her way around Rosalyn’s legs, seemingly content to be indoors.

  “Will you be all right?” Marina’s gaze was filled with concern. Rosalyn frowned. “I’ll be fine.”

  Elsa moved beside her and clapped Rosalyn on the back so hard she stumbled. “Rosie is a tough girl. She can survive anything.”

  Marina frowned. “Rosie?”

  “Never mind. She’ll be staying with me from now on and working in the restaurant.” Elsa leveled a hard gaze at Rosalyn. “Isn’t that right, missy?”

  Regardless if she’d made up her mind or not, Elsa apparently thought it was going to be true. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Marina took her hands. “You are welcome to stay at the saloon with me too. I know it’s not as respectable as Elsa’s, but the door is always open.”

  Rosalyn bit her lip to stop herself from asking why Marina was being so nice to her. Instinct made her distrustful of anyone and anything until she had reason to trust them. So far, a good reason hadn’t come along. She stepped away from Marina and stuck her hands behind her back.

  “Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it.” Rosalyn glanced at Elsa. “I ain’t taking charity now. Whatever I eat or sleep in I aim to earn.”

  Both of the other women nodded. Rosalyn felt like they were funning with her, but didn’t want to hurt their feelings if she was wrong.

  “I’ll bring you both some dinner in a couple hours.” Elsa pointed upstai
rs. “Take care of him today. Tomorrow you can start work.”

  After Elsa left, Marina approached Rosalyn and sighed. “I know you don’t trust me and that’s okay. Once upon a time, I was living on the streets of Kansas City. A much bigger, meaner place than here. Someone took a chance on me and gave me the opportunity to go west. I’ve been you.”

  A lump formed in Rosalyn’s throat at the honesty she saw in Marina’s eyes.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” With one last squeeze to Rosalyn’s shoulder, Marina left her alone.

  So many things, changes, challenges, confusion. Rosalyn could hardly take it all in. The quiet in the jail after everyone had gone was comforting. She heard the muffled sounds of the street and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

  If she was going to take what Noah, Elsa and Marina offered, then she needed to do it on her own terms. There was no way she’d survive by someone else’s rules. She had to live by her own. Whiskers meowed, her golden eyes wisely confirming Rosalyn’s decision.

  Although she appreciated Elsa’s offer, working in the restaurant didn’t appeal to Rosalyn. Except of course for eating in the kitchen. What she really wanted to do was be Noah’s deputy. She liked the idea of helping people, but she understood Marina’s concern about folks not accepting a woman deputy.

  Rosalyn would just have to be a man instead. That was it exactly. She was thin enough, so maybe if she dressed like a man, people would be more apt to accept her as a deputy.

  The idea firmly planted in her mind, Rosalyn crept into Noah’s room to fetch his extra shirt and britches. She tried not to look at him lying on the bed, but her eyes were drawn to him as if she couldn’t control herself. His brown hair was tousled on the pillow, sinfully long eyelashes gracing his bruised cheeks. His swollen lips appeared almost in a pout. Rosalyn was halfway to the bed before she realized what she was doing.

  She shook her head at her own stupidity. She’d never been foolish before meeting Noah Calhoun. As quietly as she could, she took the extra clothes hanging on hooks on the wall. Rosalyn had to force herself not to look at him again. He was hurt and needed sleep, not to be peeped at when he was most vulnerable.

  After she got back downstairs, she slipped off her brown dress and put Noah’s clothes on. The dadgum pants were a foot too wide, so she ended up using a length of rope to hold them up. The cat batted at the swinging ends until Rosalyn shooed her away.

  She frowned at her brown shoes held together with spit and string. Even though they weren’t feminine looking, they didn’t look like a man’s boots either, but they’d have to do. She knew Noah’s boots would never fit her, and besides, he only had the one pair.

  Rosalyn wished she had a mirror to see what she looked like.

  Something wasn’t right but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Her hair! That was the problem. She held her hair up for scrutiny. Even though she’d had a bath a week earlier, her hair already had bits of dirt and leaves in it. It would be better if she didn’t have to worry about long hair at all.

  Rosalyn went back upstairs to get Noah’s knife.

  ———

  Noah woke suddenly as if someone had pinched him awake. Pain washed through him in a slow agonizing roll. He sucked in a breath then let it out with the least amount of effort. His ribs hurt, but he vaguely remembered the doctor telling him nothing was broken.

  That in itself was a miracle. He’d lived through worse, but it had been a hell of a beating. There wasn’t much on him that didn’t ache or throb. He rubbed his eyes gently to clear away the sleep.

  He smelled Rosalyn. Her natural clean scent seemed to be permanently stuck in his nose. The memory of a cat licking his face and Rosalyn standing over him in the alley made him sit upright in the bed. His breath left his body in a whoosh as every piece of him reminded him quite painfully that he couldn’t and shouldn’t move that fast.

  Rosalyn had been there, in the alley. He remembered now. She’d had a calico cat with her that meowed like a little coyote. The rest of it was a bit of a blur, but she had saved him.

  By his estimate it must’ve been the middle of the day, but someone had hung a blanket over the window to block out the sun. Sunlight peeked around the corners, pricking his eyes with its shine.

  “Rosalyn?” he called out into the darkened room.

  A scrape on the stairs told him someone was walking up. The door opened just a crack.

  “Noah?”

  Relief washed through him that she was there.

  “I’m awake.”

  She entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. The shadows barely outlined her figure. Something, however, seemed wrong.

  She cleared her throat. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got run over by a horse, but I’m alive. I’ve got you to thank for that.” He touched his nose gingerly. “I’m thankful, Rosalyn.”

  “It wasn’t nothing, really. That’s what a deputy does, right?” She stepped closer to the bed.

  Noah heard something in her voice that gave him pause. “What’s the matter?”

  “Um, I have something to show you. Don’t get mad.”

  Noah had no idea what she was talking about, but his gut churned with anxiety. She pulled the blanket back from the window and Noah blinked at the sudden bright light.

  “I just wanted to be your deputy.”

  As she walked toward the bed, Noah felt completely confused. She didn’t even look like herself. He closed his eyes then opened them again, sure he’d see something different. Another place, another person rushed through his head. He swallowed back a handful of panic. Rosalyn reminded him so much of himself for a moment, he couldn’t get a word past the lump in his throat.

  Holy shit.

  Rosalyn wasn’t Rosalyn anymore. She’d shed the brown dress for his clothes, which hung on her like a child playing dress up, except for her full breasts that seemed out of place. What really made his head pound wasn’t the way she was dressed. It was her hair.

  Her beautiful black locks had been shorn almost completely off. She’d hacked it up above her ears until it stuck up like a blackbird’s tail feathers. Noah was absolutely speechless.

  Rosalyn touched her hair. “I know I ain’t pretty but leastways folks will think I’m a man now and I can be your deputy.”

  Noah couldn’t stop the tears that pricked his lids. Acceptance had been a hard battle he’d fought all his life. Until the Calhouns found him, he’d never been successful at it. Even after he’d been adopted, the little boy who hid in the shadows of the barn still felt out of place.

  He patted the bed next to him and she stepped over hesitantly as if she expected him to hurt her. Noah put his hands on his lap with the fingers twined together and gave her his most innocent expression. She reached the bed then kneeled on the floor beside him.

  Slowly he reached out and cupped her cheek. Stiff at first, she finally closed her eyes and leaned into his palm. Noah’s heart beat madly with the feelings that whooshed through him. Rosalyn had been a mission for him, something to accomplish, not really a person.

  Now she was much more than that. She gave him the most precious gift anyone could give another.

  Trust.

  “You didn’t have to cut your hair,” he whispered. “You were already perfect.”

  Rosalyn opened her violet eyes and searched his gaze. “I’m thinking you need spectacles.”

  Noah barked out a laugh, trying desperately to control the physical pain and the emotional storm that warred within him.

  “Sweet, sweet, Rosalyn.” He leaned over and kissed her softly, his ribs protesting every move.

  “Does that mean I shouldn’t wear your clothes either?” She glanced down at the shirt. “’Cause the britches are mighty big for me.”

  “No, sweetheart. You probably shouldn’t.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling her scent and recognizing that he was falling fast and hard.

  Her eyes narrowed. �
��What did you call me?”

  This time the pain be damned, Noah couldn’t let the moment pass. He held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

  “I called you sweetheart. My love, my sweet, my heart.” His mouth leaned down towards hers and she met him halfway.

  Noah’s heart soared as it recognized his true mate, the one he’d been looking for all his life. The other half of his soul.

  He’d fallen in love.

  “Where in the heck is everybody?” Elsa called from downstairs. Rosalyn’s wary gaze told him that she might trust him, but not enough. Noah wasn’t surprised, nor was he expecting more yet. He kissed her quickly.

  “Up here, Elsa,” he replied.

  Elsa clunked up the stairs and came into the bedroom with a frown.

  “You shouldn’t be up here alone, Rosie. Folks are already talking about you and the sheriff.”

  “I was just talking.” Rosalyn rose to her feet.

  Elsa whistled when she got close enough to see Rosalyn. “Holy Jesus, girl. What have you done?”

  “I asked her to cut her hair,” Noah lied. “If she’s going to live on the streets, it’s better if it’s short.”

  “That’s a whopper if I ever heard one.” Elsa glared. “She’s not living on the streets no more but I guess she didn’t tell you that yet, did she? Rosie is going to live and work at the restaurant.”

  Noah hid his disappointment. Although she wasn’t the ideal deputy, Rosalyn had something others didn’t. Heart and passion, not to mention determination and the will to survive. She’d make an excellent lawman, or lawwoman, if there was such a thing.

  “Get out of his clothes right quick a’fore someone sees you.” Elsa shooed Rosalyn out of the room. “I found that blue dress in the desk drawer. Put that on.”

  If she had wanted to respond, Rosalyn didn’t have the chance. Elsa was a force of nature when she wanted to be, even if she didn’t stand five feet tall. She turned back to Noah.

  “Don’t break that girl’s heart.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Noah fought the urge to slide down onto the bed as exhaustion crept over him.