The Stranger from Abilene

Chapter 42

Cage Clayton woke to the hammering on his door. He slid the Colt from the holster hanging from the bedpost and said, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Emma.”

It took a few moments for the significance of that to penetrate Clayton’s sleep-fuddled brain, and finally he said, “I’m not decent.”

The girl silvered a laugh. “Then get decent. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

“Why?” Clayton cursed under his breath. A pretty girl at my hotel room door and all I can say is “Why?”

“You’re taking me to breakfast,” Emma said. “And I don’t have much time before I start work.”

Clayton swung his legs off the bed and put on his hat. “I’ll be right down.”

“Don’t be too long.”

He found one sock, but couldn’t locate the other, and when he slipped his canvas suspenders over his shoulders, he discovered that he’d buttoned up his shirt wrong. His left boot pulled on just fine, but the other stuck on his heel, then twisted, and he had to start all over again.

Clayton wet down his hair, ran a comb through it, and wished he’d had time to trim his mustache. When he glanced in the mirror, he wasn’t pleased by what he saw—a man with age lines in his face, wearing scuffed down-at-heel boots and a shirt and pants that had faded to no color at all. Thank goodness his hat looked fine, a new gray Stetson that had cost him a month’s wages.

Clayton had seen enough. He opened the door and walked downstairs to the lobby.

Emma Kelly took his breath away. She wore a pink gingham dress, ribbons of the same color in her hair. She was as fresh and pretty as a May morning, stepping into the day clean, like sunlight.

Suddenly, Clayton felt big and awkward, all hands and feet, shabby in his clothes, fumbling for words like a man sorting through a pile of rags.

“You look real pretty, Miz Emma,” he said finally.

“And you are as handsome as ever, Mr. Clayton.” The girl smiled.

Again Clayton drew back, baffled by her praise.

Emma saved him. “Will you give me your arm?”

“Yes,” he said. It was the only word he could find.

The restaurant was busy so early in the morning, and Ma poured them coffee while they waited on their orders.

Emma’s smile was bright. “So, I hear you were offered a job,” she said.

“You’ve been talking to Nook,” Clayton said.

“Ranch manager,” Emma said. “You’re coming up in the world.”

“I wasn’t offered the job. Nook volunteered me for it.”

“He says it’s yours if you want it.”

“Nook talks too much.”

“Well, is it?”

“Is it what?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Cage,” Emma said, her lowered brows scolding. “Is the job yours for the taking?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. McLean didn’t even mention what he’s paying.”

“You should ask him.”

Clayton was silent for a while. The steamy heat of the restaurant made sweat trickle down his back. Emma on the other hand seemed unaffected by it.

“You know why I’m in Bighorn Point,” he said. “I’ve made no secret of that.”

“Nook says he thinks Lissome Terry is dead.”

“I don’t. I believe he’s here in town. He paid a couple of grub line farm boys to kill me. Nook Kelly knows that.”

“He thinks maybe he was mistaken, that the bushwhackers only wanted your horses and guns.”

“Nook doesn’t really believe that.”

Now Clayton waded into water he knew was too deep for him. “He wants me to take McLean’s job and marry you, settle down.”

To his surprise, Emma took that in stride. “You could do worse, Cage Clayton,” she said.

He matched Emma’s honesty with his own. “Yes, I know I could. But I don’t want McLean’s job. At least, not yet.”

When their breakfasts arrived, they ate in silence. When she was finished eating, only a few bites here and there, Emma rose to her feet.

“I must be getting to work.”

Clayton dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, stay and finish your food.” Emma tried to smile, failed, then said, “I have some thinking to do.”

When the girl reached the door, Clayton called out, “Emma, I’ll talk to Angus McLean, hear what he has to say.”

He didn’t know if she’d heard him or not.