Zooey Pinkerton- a Daughter's Right Page 3

  “It's a rather delicate matter, Sheriff,” Charlie whispered aside his hand. “It's about the woman…the cook over there at the ranch.”

  “Marta? What's happened? Did they hurt her?” Zooey's heart was pounding wildly beneath her coat. She couldn't bear the thought that her surrogate mother and friend had been hurt.

  “It's okay, Charlie. Zooey was there when they shot her father. I doubt there’s anything you can say that will make her feel worse.”

  Joshua was surprised when the bar owner removed his hat and stepped toward Zooey. Taking her slender fingers in his, he said, “I'm sorry, Zooey. A few of Sheriff Duncan's men brought her in. They found her on the road near the ranch. She's hurt pretty bad.”

  “Is she alive?”

  Charlie nodded and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Barely, but Doc says he can patch her up. She was beaten and well.... she was...”

  Zooey grew frustrated by the silence “What is it Charlie? Please tell me. She was...is like a mother to me. I have to know what happened before I see her.”

  “Damn it!” Charlie cursed as he dropped Zooey's hand. “They hurt her bad after having their way with her. You know what I mean Sheriff?”

  Zooey's jaw dropped and she fell to the floor on her knees; her stomach retched. “They raped her?” she sputtered.

  Charlie's pained look told Joshua everything he needed to know. He bent low to help pick Zooey up off the floor. “Come on now, don't fall apart now. She's going to need you to be strong.”

  “I will get Tom Brennan, bounty or not, and alive or not!”

  Six

  Zooey felt her heart sink as she and Joshua walked down the road. With no hospital within a day's travel, Dr. Martin and his wife had set up two private rooms where seriously wounded patients could be tended to before making the journey out of town.

  The silence between the two was deafening, but neither felt they had anything to say. Joshua was seething that Tom Brennan had slipped through the cracks once again. Zooey on the other hand, felt nothing but loss and heartache.

  “I can almost understand killing Pops,” Zooey finally said. “But why hurt Marta?”

  “Because he can!”

  Zooey shuddered. As cold as it sounded, she knew Josh was right. It was not personal. A man like Tom was all about power and instilling fear, plain and simple.

  Dr. Martins’ wife had the door open before they could even set foot on the wooden stairs.

  “Oh honey!” she remarked as she hurried down to gather Zooey into her bosom. “I am so sorry about your father.”

  May Martin was a statuesque woman with a full figure and silver hair drawn tight into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was a handsome older woman with sparkling blue eyes and a quick smile that would put even the most pained or nervous visitor at ease.

  “Thank you, May,” Zooey sniffed before wiping her nose on the sleeve of her coat. “How's Marta?”

  “Come in and Albert will explain. I'm glad you came too, Joshua. Zooey needs her friends right now.”

  Joshua nodded. “I'm certainly a friend, Mrs. Martin, but I'll need to speak with Marta if she's up for it.”

  May wrapped her arm around Zooey's shoulder and led them both inside the foyer. “I'll let Albert know you’re here. Would you like some tea, Zooey?”

  Zooey nodded gratefully and hung her coat up on the wall. She sat on a wooden bench located underneath the coat rack and held her hands tightly in her lap. Joshua watched her in uncomfortable silence, only lifting his head when he heard the clicking of boot heels on the floor.

  “Zooey, Sheriff Duncan. Thank you for coming.” Doctor Albert Martin was a rotund man, in his early sixties, with green eyes and thinning white hair. He had a kind face with soft wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His white doctor's coat was threadbare at the sleeves and elbows, having been mended once too often.

  “Doc? Can we see Marta? Is she awake?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes,” agreed Zooey. “I'd like to see her.”

  “I know you would, Zooey and I'm certain you have some questions for her, Sheriff, but I'd like you both to come into my office for a moment. There are few things we need to discuss. Marta is resting right now, anyway. I gave her a sleeping drought not long ago.”

  Zooey stood up and ran a shaky hand through her red curls. “I don't like the sounds of this, Doc.” Doctor Martin led her to his office down the hall. A chair was pulled out from his antique writing desk and two others were set off side. A stethoscope lay cold and shiny atop a freestanding table, with various tools on a tray set up for minor stitching and surgeries.

  “Please sit down Zooey. Ah, here's May now.”

  Albert stood aside and watched as his wife set up a tray of tea and cups. On a normal day she would have brought in cookies or cake, but no one felt the need for sweets today. “Thank you, my dear. I am sure a cup of tea will help set us all up right.”

  May nodded and patted Zooey's shoulder before she walked out of the room. Zooey eyed the doctor impatiently and tapped her toe on the floor. She accepted the steaming cup of tea, took a polite sip, and then placed the cup down hard on the doctor’s writing desk. Its contents sloshed on one side and then the other.

  “What is it you have to say, Dr. Martin? I don't mean to sound rude, but by sitting here we are wasting precious time that could be spent catching Tom Brennan. I just want to see Marta and know she’s going to be alright!”

  “Zooey! Calm yourself.” Joshua's voice was like cold water on Zooey's fiery frustration. She shrank into her seat and mumbled,” sorry”.

  Doctor Martin forced a small smile and waved a hand in the air. “It's alright,” he said gently. “Zooey, I know the last couple of days have been a lot to handle. I know Marta is like a mother to you. Before you go see her, I just wanted you to know that she may never be “right” after this. The physical trauma was bad enough, but none of us can begin to know how the emotional trauma will be for Marta. She was there when they shot your father and... well for her to be abused in this manner is horrifying to me both as a doctor and a man.”

  Zooey hung her head and cried softly. “I hate this...I hate him. Pops should have known what he was getting involved in.”

  “We all make mistakes, Zooey. Your father was human.” Joshua broke in.

  “Yes,” Zooey agreed. “But Tom Brennan is not! I want him to pay.”

  “Zooey, come now. I'll have May bring you in to see Marta. She should be waking up soon.”

  Zooey drained her teacup in silence. When she looked up she could see the two men exchanging pitiful glances. She knew their sympathy was directed at her, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

  “Are you ready, Zooey?”

  May held her hand out to the young woman.

  “Okay, May. I'm ready.”

  Joshua stood aside and nodded politely as they passed. “I'll meet you outside when you’re ready to leave. My questions for Marta can wait.”

  “Thanks, Josh. I appreciate that.”

  “How's Zooey doing?” Doctor Martin asked Joshua once Zooey was out of earshot.

  “She's tougher than most. I think the hardest part is losing that ranch.” Joshua smiled sadly.

  “Can you get Brennan?”

  “That's my plan Doc… that's my plan.”

  Seven

  Sarah applied a heavy layer of powder to her neck and collarbone. She stood back and surveyed herself in the mirror. Her long, honey coloured hair was done up in ringlets that hung seductively around her neck and shoulders. She wore a tight red dress that showed as much as a saloon girl dared show without causing a riot. Sarah had taken great care to cover up any damage Tom may have done the night before. “I'll prove I'm worthy, Tommy,” she whispered to her reflection. “You'll see.”

  After spritzing herself with a cheap, floral scent, Sarah tidied her room. Just as she was about to head down to the bar, she heard voices coming up through the open window.

  “She looked so horrible, Josh. I can't wait
idly by while your men try and track Brennan down. Somebody knows where he is!”

  Sarah looked down on Zooey Pinkerton and Sheriff Duncan as they walked down the dusty road. A surge of panic spread through her belly. “Nobody will hurt my Tommy. I'll fix you, Zooey Pinkerton. I'll be damned if you ruin my plans to get out of this stinking saloon.”

  Flushed and angry, Sarah tossed her bottle of scent across the room. She watched it smash into slivers on the floor, engulfing the room with a heady, floral fragrance.

  A knock on the door startled Sarah. She hurried to clean up the mess she had created.

  “Sarah? Everything aright? You need to get downstairs. The bar will be filling up soon. It's payday. You damn well know what that means! Men want to spend their cash.”

  A shudder racked through Sarah's body at the thought of the rough, work-worn hands of the cattle men and cowboys. They liked to paw her as she sang and served drinks.

  “I'll show everyone I'm no dumb blonde. Just wait and see.” Sarah hissed under her breath as she mopped up the perfume. She stood and smoothed out the creases in her skirt. Satisfied she was presentable; Sarah pasted on her famous fake smile and headed down to the bar for another days work.

  * * *

  Zooey could hear the strains of piano music coming from the saloon as she and Joshua entered the Sheriff’s office. After seeing Marta’s swollen face, broken arm, and broken spirit, it made her more determined than ever to find Tom Brennan.

  Zooey stopped and stared up at Joshua's face. “Can't help but think of Marta’s face. She's been destroyed, Josh. Tom Brennan has destroyed so many lives…and for what? Greed? All for a man...a “boss” that nobody seems to know?”

  “Oh, I'm certain somebody knows. It's a matter of weeding out fact from fiction and finding someone willing to rat him out.”

  “Sheriff Duncan!”

  Joshua turned to see one of his deputies come charging through his office door. “You may want to read this.”

  The young deputy tipped his hat to Zooey and threw a thin sheet of paper down on Joshua's desk. It was a telegraph sheet but Zooey didn't get a chance to look at it before Joshua grabbed it. “Are you sure about this, Arnie?” He asked the young deputy.

  “Yes sir. Just got it from the telegraph office myself.”

  “What is it, Josh?”

  “It looks like we'll finally find out who Tom Brennan's boss is!”

  Zooey scowled and leaned across the desk, snatching the paper from the Sheriff's hands. “What do you mean?”

  “A good contact of mine across county got word of someone important coming into town. Considering your father's ranch is a big grab, it wouldn’t surprise me if the boss himself was coming to survey the property.”

  A surge of excitement swept through Zooey’s body, charging her with some much needed energy. She ran her hand along the barrel of the Colt revolver in her waistband. “We need to be out there waiting for him!”

  Joshua eyed Zooey's hand and frowned. “Keep that weapon right where it is, Miss Pinkerton!”

  “Miss Pinkerton?” she asked. “Josh, be serious. If you know this man is coming, then why can't you wait for him out at the ranch? You could plan some kind of sneak attack.”

  “This guy is sophisticated enough to avoid detection. Do you think he's going to march down the centre of town with flags raised for all to see?”

  “No, I suppose not,” Zooey shrugged, deflated. “Damn it all!”

  Joshua moved in close to Zooey and placed both hands on her slender shoulders. “I know it’s frustrating. Just let me see what else I can find out. I have to be discreet about it or Brennan and his men will know something is up. I'm surprised he hasn't come looking for you already.”

  “I am too,” Zooey remarked. She shivered as if a winter wind had just blown through the room. “He must have been angry that I got away from the ranch.”

  “I don't doubt it. For tonight let me do some asking around. I'd feel better if you went back to Charlie's and got a good nights sleep.”

  “I doubt I'll sleep much. From the sounds of the music at the saloon, everyone is ready for a party.”

  An idea crossed Joshua’s mind, but he wasn't sure if it was appropriate. “Zooey?”

  “Yes?”

  “I'll be up late trying to sort all this out. Why don't you stay at my place?”

  A flush burned Zooey's cheeks. “I don't know about that.”

  “It's safe and you'll get some rest. If you want you can even have a hot bath and a decent meal. If I get back early, I'll sleep on the fainting couch in the study.”

  “You have a fainting couch?” Zooey was surprised that a bachelor like Joshua would have a piece like that around. It was something a woman would have in her bedroom, not a sheriff.

  “It was my mother's. After she died and my father disappeared, it was the piece of furniture I couldn’t throw away.” A far away look crossed Joshua's face. He had loved his mother fiercely. As a young deputy, he had been the first to come across her body on a dark, hot summer night. A gang of bandits had found her alone at the house and killed her for a bit of jewellery. His father had left shortly after and never returned.

  “I'm sorry, Josh. I didn't mean to pry.”

  Joshua pulled on his coat and nodded. “Not to worry, Zooey. I've known you and your family for a long time. You could never pry. Now grab your things. It's a half hour out of the city.”

  “Thank you, Josh. It will be nice to have an actual bath. Sarah, that saloon girl, didn't seem too happy that Charlie was letting me stay, anyway.”

  “I wouldn't worry about Sarah. Let's get going before its dark.” Zooey grabbed her coat and followed Joshua out the door. She beamed when she saw Gypsy hitched just outside the door. The horse whinnied and nodded its head in greeting.

  “It's good to see you too, Gypsy. You’re all I've got now.” Zooey nuzzled the horses’ neck and scratched her forehead. She inhaled the earthy scent of the animal and swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. You feel like home. A tear trickled down Zooey’s cheek as she realized she may never have a home again.

  “Are you ready, Zooey? It's quite a ride out.”

  Zooey sniffed and hoisted herself onto Gypsy's back.

  Eight

  A pair of dark eyes watched with interest as the sheriff and Zooey rode away from the jail office. Back to the old homestead? Interesting, he thought. This will certainly be a homecoming no one in this town will ever forget. I hope you’ll be surprised, Joshua Duncan.

  “Ready boss?”

  The older, distinguished looking man glanced back and scowled at the scruffy cowboy, sitting on a stallion behind him. “We’ll head out when I say I'm ready and not a moment sooner. Got it?”

  “I got it, boss,” the younger man nodded before adding silently, “Asshole”.

  “We have a stop to make before the ranch. My throat is parched and I need a drink.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Both men nudged their mounts and pulled their hats low over their brows. The dust curled up behind them as they walked the horses over to Charlie's Saloon. The older man quickly and quietly dismounted and proceeded to dust off his dark coat and pants. “Damn dirty business, this town. Nothing has changed. Watch my horse. I won't be long.”

  “Yes sir.”

  The older man raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “There are many words in the English language youngster. Perhaps you need to start using them. While I appreciate your common sense in not speaking until spoken too; I bore easily. Try and think up a new way to agree with me.”

  “Yes sir.”

  A heavy sigh left the man's throat as he walked up the front steps. “I'm surrounded by fools,” he whispered before opening the door and walking into the saloon. A blast of warm, sour aroma hit his nostrils as he inhaled and removed his hat. “Nice to see nothing has changed, Charlie!”

  Charlie Marks raised his head from his beer glasses. His mouth instantly dropped open.

  “Sur
prised, my old friend?”

  “Friend is a strong word, Jack, a strong word indeed. Been a long time and I was hoping to keep it that way.” Jack walked toward the bar and placed his hat on the bar top. “Can a man get a drink in this hell hole or is my money no good here?”

  “Won't refuse a paying man, Jack, but be quick. Don't think you want too many prying eyes.” Charlie reached under the bar for a clean shot glass and filled it to the brim with whiskey. With his other hand he withdrew the pistol he kept hidden underneath the counter.

  “Now, now, Charlie, there's no need for that. I'm not here to bring you grief - but I do plan on staying awhile, so you'd best get used to seeing my face.”

  “Have your drink and leave, Jack. I'm not looking for trouble.”

  Jack slowly sipped the amber liquid from the glass. “I see the quality of liquor has improved. Good for you!”

  Just as Jack was about to take another drink, he heard the piano begin to play and a decidedly feminine voice start warbling a familiar show tune. “Ah, new entertainment as well. Delightful!” He stared intently at the petite blonde and wondered if this was Tom Brennan’s latest conquest. “Send that young lady a glass of champagne on me,” he said to Charlie, keeping his eyes on the songstress. She'd be a pretty little thing on my arm once she was cleaned up and dressed right.

  Charlie opened the only bottle of champagne he had in the saloon. You damn well better pay full price for this, he thought as he brought the glass over to Sarah.

  Sarah cut her song short when she caught sight of Charlie – and that glass. She welcomed the break, as the saloon was almost empty, and she was tired of singing to no one in particular.

  “Who is this from?” she asked.

  “Not from me, darling. It's from the gentleman at the bar. Now, I suggest you put on your biggest smile and go thank him for it.”

  “Oh? A big shot, huh?” It wasn't often Sarah had the chance to drink champagne, let alone have it bought by such a distinguished looking man. She scanned him up and down with her icy blue eyes and nodded as graciously as she could, tasting the bubbles briefly before sashaying over to the bar. “Don't you worry, Charlie. I'll take good care of him.”