Chapter 7
Heather picked at her food. Despite the fact that Mark was sitting across the table from her, she had a feeling that he was miles and miles away from her. He had a faraway look as he ate, moving quite mechanically as though he were a clockwork automaton from a story.
She had tried several threads of conversation, and none of them had held Mark’s interest for more than a moment.
With a grunt or a nod, he had responded, but without giving her anything to work with.
It was a tedious meal, and she found herself wishing it would end or that he would pay some attention to her.
Maybe this wasn’t going to work out between them.
He’d been far more pleasant in his letters.
By the time they were done with the main course, Heather’s patience had run out completely.
“No dessert for me, thank you. I think we should say good night,” she said firmly.
That got his attention. Finally. Mark blinked and looked over at her, puzzled. “Why?”
“Because you’re already gone,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought we were going to try and see if this spark between us had the makings of a relationship. But this doesn’t feel much like anything but having dinner on my own with an automaton.”
“An automaton?”
“You were eating like one,” she said and mimicked his mechanical movement. “I would have thought it funny, except it was really rude.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mark said, visibly contrite. He reached across the table for her hands. Taking them in his, he gently squeezed them. “Work is just … Never mind. There’s no excuse for my rudeness. How can I make it up to you?”
Not having expected that as a response, Heather stared at him and then swallowed. “Well, I suppose you can tell me what’s going on. What has you so enthralled?”
Mark’s smile slipped. “I’m not really supposed to say.”
“Can’t you tell me anything? At all?” she asked, raising her brows. “Surely you owe me that much.”
With a sigh, Mark considered her question and then scratched his ear as though that helped him to make up his mind. “Look, it’s kind of secret because we can’t have folks overreacting. So, you have to keep this to yourself.”
“I can do that,” Heather said. “And I’m new in town. Who will I tell?”
“All right. We’ve had word that things might be coming to a head with El Aguila,” he said.
“But you really can’t tell anyone. The whole town will find out once we have a solid plan.
I have to go to San Antonio on Tuesday for business.
Business related to this matter. I need to make it seem like a normal trip. ”
“But it won’t be?” she asked, intrigued.
“Not entirely,” he admitted.
“Would it help if I came along? To make it seem like something normal,” she explained. “I need a dressmaker’s dummy. I left a very nice one back in Gordon’s Bay, thinking I could probably get along without it, but it turns out I can’t.”
For a moment, Mark looked horrified at her suggestion and then his expression changed to a thoughtful one.
“A dressmaker’s dummy?”
She nodded.
“That could help, yes,” he said. “I think we’re constantly under surveillance. Maybe it would fool them.”
Heather smiled. “Wonderful, now we can talk about oth?—”
The sound of plates and glasses crashing to the floor made Heather jump in her seat and turn around.
Something came flying in her direction, and Heather instinctively ducked. Then a man crashed into her chair, knocking her to the ground.
“What is going on here?” Mark demanded, jumping out of his chair and trying to separate the combatants.
“He’s a lying cheater!” the one man cried.
“You’re the cheater!” the other one yelled and lunged for the first man.
Other diners were on their feet now too, trying to keep the two men apart. When they had a hold of them, Mark turned back to Heather, who was still lying, stunned, on the floor.
He offered her a hand and helped her up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but look out!” Heather cried and ducked down again as one of the men broke free and came after Mark.
Turning, Mark caught the man’s fist and, using his own momentum, flipped him onto his back on the table. More plates and glasses crashed to the floor as the man landed.
“Stop! Stay down!” Mark roared.
Heather would have obeyed immediately if he’d told her anything in that voice, but the man didn’t seem to know what was good for him. He rolled off the table and came at Mark again. Now the other one got free, and they ganged up on Mark.
“What are you doing, Lawrence? Chester?” Mark demanded.
They swung and Mark ducked, stepping to the side and allowing them to hit each other. Perhaps Lawrence and Chester had been sampling the hotel’s bar, because they weren’t fighting well.
“You got in the way,” Chester slurred. He was shorter than Lawrence, but Heather thought she could see some resemblance between them. Were they brothers?
Mark and a couple of other men managed to grab the pair and force their hands behind their backs.
“I suppose you can tell me what started this little brawl at the station. Let’s go,” Mark said. “Heather, I’m sorry, but I think these two need some time in lockup.”
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Chester protested. “What you charging us with?”
“Brawling in public, causing a disturbance, damaging public property, being idiots … The list is almost endless,” Mark said, manhandling Lawrence out of the door.
Heather watched them go. I guess I should get used to that. I wonder how often Mark and I will be able to have a quiet, uninterrupted meal.
Heather paid for their meal and then walked over to the sheriff’s station. The sound of raised voices rang in the air, and Heather decided to sit on the steps and look up at the stars instead of heading inside to the mayhem.
It was some time before Mark made it out of the sheriff’s office. The brothers were still shouting at each other when he came out and locked the door behind him.
He sat beside her on the steps. “Well, that wasn’t how I hoped our dinner would end.”
“Are they okay?” Heather asked. “They’re not locked in the same cell, are they?”
“No,” Mark said. “I’m pretty sure we’d arrive here in the morning to find one or both of them dead. Those are the Watson twins. They moved here from the farms a couple of weeks ago and have been nothing but trouble since.”
“Criminal trouble?”
“No, just this kind,” Mark said with a shrug. “It reminds me of back home. We would only have this sort of thing to deal with. No bandits with grand plots there, just normal folks doing dumb things.”
“It sounds oddly nice,” Heather laughed, leaning against him and enjoying having him close.
He shifted and put his arm around her shoulders. His arm around her felt right, like that was where it was always meant to be. She leaned a little closer and sighed, suddenly tired.
“Would you like to go for a walk around the town?” he asked after they’d sat in comfortable silence for a while.
“Sure, just a short one though,” Heather said. “I have a lot of sewing to do tomorrow. I might need to buy myself a Singer sewing machine in San Antonio.”
“Aren’t those expensive?” he asked as he removed his arm, and they stood up.
“Yes,” Heather said with a grin. “But I plan to make enough to be able to pay myself back for the extravagant purchase.” She slid her hand into his. They started walking up the street together, slowly, not really needing to get anywhere.
The sky was bright with stars, so many that Heather was certain no one would ever be able to count them all.
There was no moon, which meant that the sky was especially brilliant with starlight.
The air was scented with night-blooming flowers, and insects sang their variegated mating calls.
It was all so perfect. She had dreamed of nights like this when reading stories back home.
She had dreamed of a knight in shining armor coming to take her away across the rolling expanse of a made-up kingdom.
When that had happened in her mind, she had always seen the night sky lit up as it currently was.
Most authors were in love with the moon, describing her in all her glory, but Heather had always thought that starlight was more enchanting and far more mysterious.
Hand in hand, they walked to the bridge, where they stopped and looked over the wall at the creek. It was flowing swiftly, murmuring and gurgling as it went.
“I’m really glad you decided to come to Unity,” Mark said, leaning against the wall with his back and holding her hand to his chest. “I have to admit, I pictured coming here with you a million times.”
“You did?” she asked in surprise, blushing slightly. “Well, it is lovely.” She could feel his heart beating fast under her fingers.
He drew her a little closer and then a little closer still. Mark leaned in, his lips parted slightly, a twinkle in his eyes. She leaned in too and?—
“Oh, hello,” a friendly voice said.
They practically jumped apart as though they were children caught robbing the cookie jar.
“Sorry,” Clary said. She giggled. “I told you to leave them alone, Thomas.”
Thomas, a tall, lanky man with a scraggly beard, smiled. “But I couldn’t resist.” He playfully punched Mark on the shoulder. “So, introduce me properly, Mark.”
Mark sighed. “This is Thomas Forster. He’s one of my good friends here and a bit of a prankster to boot. Not to mention overzealous about his work. I’m surprised to see him out of the office. Thomas, this is Heather Barnaby.”
“Overzealous is a nice way of saying obsessive.” Clary rolled her eyes. “No one has seen him for days because the shipment was a little behind the new schedule. Of course, considering how far behind we really are, I can’t think it would matter.”
“She’s just grumpy because I haven’t been around much,” Thomas said.
“Take it as a compliment,” Heather said. “It would be worse if she didn’t want you around.”
Thomas smiled. “Good point. Well, I know we disturbed you. I’m really sorry. We’ll be on our way.”
Thomas and Clary smiled and waved and walked on.