“And we thought somebody had finally come to this godforsaken town who could be trusted,” one of the others said. He and those with him just stared for a moment, shaking their heads. They turned and left, and Miranda enjoyed the withered look on Jennings’s face.
“I’m glad I’ve seen you again.” Miranda was seething. “Every chance I get I’ll tell others about how poorly you practice what you preach! And where is your oh-so-perfect, innocent nephew, Reverend? Is he out preaching too?”
Opal blinked back tears, her hard, thin face showing her sorrow. “Clarence has been taken in by the sin of this town,” she answered, looking embarrassed herself. “He has strayed from us and has fallen into the ways of the wicked.”
“Well, today Clarence isn’t feeling too much like sinning or doing anything else,” Jake spoke up, surprising Miranda. “He and I had a little run-in last night in the Silver Shoes. I found out who he was and I can guarantee he’s damn sorry about what he did to Miranda.”
“What did you do to him?” the reverend demanded, his face livid.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve,” Jake answered.
The preacher literally shook, turning to Opal. “I must try to find him and make sure he’s all right. James would want me to do that much.” He grasped his wife’s arm and stormed off with her, his brother glaring at Jake for a moment, looking him over, studying the guns he wore. The momentary challenge he had shown quickly changed to a look that said he thought better of it. He followed Jennings down the hill.
Miranda turned to Jake. “What happened with Clarence? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He moved his hat back farther on his head. “You had enough to think about last night. He had seen us that first night, knew who I was when I went into the Silver Shoes. Apparently he works there, and apparently it made him angry that the woman who had spurned him turned around and married me. I’m only guessing at how the stupid kid thinks.” He took a cheroot from an inside pocket of his jacket. “The dumb kid decided to challenge me. He insulted you in front of everybody in that saloon, then went for his gun.”
Her eyes widened. “You shot him?”
“Hell no. You don’t want to know what I did, except that I gave him a damn good scare. I have to tell you, though, there was a time when I would have shot him.” He cupped his hand against the wind and lit the square cigar. “On the one hand I feel good about letting him live, but I only did it because he’s a smart-mouthed kid trying to be a man.” He puffed on the cheroot. “The only thing that bothers me is the rage I felt when I lit into him. It reminded me of my pa. I’ve beat the hell out of plenty of men, but never somebody that age.”
Miranda folded her arms stoically. “He deserved whatever you did to him! If he thought he was man enough to try to rape me, then he was man enough to take what he had coming!”
He squinted, keeping the cigar in his mouth and studying her intently. “Well, Mrs. Turner, for such a slip of a woman, you can be pretty damn ornery.”
“If I’m going to be married to you, I expect I have to be, just to keep you in line, if nothing else.”
He grinned a little, stepping closer and putting his arm around her. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the cold.”
Miranda looked back once more at the lonely grave. It broke her heart to think of Wes dying without any family close by, but it had been his choice to leave. She only wished he could have been buried next to their father. She turned to Jake, resting her head against his chest. “It hurts, Jake, to think our once-close family is so scattered and broken now. Mother is buried back in Illinois, Father in Kansas, now Wes here in Nevada. I’ll be moving on to California come spring. It feels strange, like I’m floating on the wind.”
“You’ll feel more secure when you have that baby and have a place to call your own. There won’t be any more wandering after that. I promise. Come on now. It’s getting colder. I think another snowstorm is coming.”
He walked her to Outlaw and lifted her up onto the horse, then took the reins and began leading the animal back to town. An explosion in a nearby mine made Miranda jump, and she looked back at the grave once more, thinking of the awful way poor Wes had died. Her throat ached, and she turned away again. Snowflakes began to take shape, and before the day was out, the graveyard would be buried in three feet of snow. Winter was settling into the Sierras with a vengeance.
Fifteen
January 1867
Miranda read the headlines of the Territorial Enterprise again. Bank Robbery Foiled by Local Citizen. “Oh, Jake,” she whispered. What he had done would be laughingly ironic if it weren’t for the unwanted attention it had drawn. She read on. Local gunsmith Jake Turner yesterday interrupted a bank robbery in progress at the Nevada National, catching the thieves as they came out of the bank and shooting it out with them. Turner, an ex-lawman himself, is known to be an excellent gunman and has worked for Ike Jones, our local gunsmith, since arriving in Virginia City last October. Of the five thieves, two are dead, two wounded, and one is sitting in the local jailhouse. All the stolen money was recovered, and Sheriff Lane is grateful for Mr. Turner’s quick thinking and prompt action.