Not a sound came from Laurie, but if Decker turned around again, he reckoned the other man’s face wouldn’t be red only from the wind.
The church loomed ahead of them as they wound through the streets to the center of town. A dog barked between the dark shops as Sitara picked her way over uneven cobblestones.
Get in, get Whitton if Sister Inez was right, and get out.
A simple, easy, bullet-proof plan.
As bullet-proof as Cricket?
Decker winced at himself.
Behind him, Laurie’s shivering became uncontrollable.
Damn frail humans.
He couldn’t drag Laurie through the church in this state and expect him to provide a distraction when he could hardly keep his teeth in his head. Laurie deserved better.
Decker sighed and glanced down the darkened street. A wooden sign creaked in a gust of wind, the gilded letters readingBuffalo Jump Inn.
He wanted nothing more than to get Whitton and return home. But thunderclouds gathered and riding back tonight would gainhim nothing; with their current state of muddy, soaked clothes covered in red clay and grave dirt, they already looked suspicious.
“We’ll stay here until you’re warmed up.” Decker turned Sitara towards the stables behind the inn.
“T-thank you,” Laurie chattered behind him, the relief evident in his cold bones as another shiver went through him.
The woman behind the counter was cross-faced, equally displeased with the dirty footprints across her lobby as she was with Laurie’s ruddy cheeks. She peered up at them from behind a counter low enough to make her seem average height, if one ignored the stool she stood on.
“Got caught in the rain did you? Nasty out tonight,” she said, her tone still gruff and unbothered after Decker wordlessly dug through his pocket and slipped her more than enough. Being alive for as long as he had came with some advantages; wealth accumulated like dust on a mantle and he saved it for times such as these. To help a friend or, in this case, a warm bath and a hot meal for Laurie who swayed in place, dripping water across the Turkish rug.
“Lucky you came when you did, people have been tricklin’ in since supper trying to hunker down and there’s not many rooms left,” she said as she stepped off her stool and nearly disappeared behind the counter. She produced two keys from the dark, cavernous space.
“We’ll just need one,” Decker said. Laurie’s near-panicked gaze darted to him, and he smiled patronizingly. “We’ll only be here for a few hours.”
Laurie laughed shortly, his cheeks flaming.
She eyed them under grey hair frizzing from her temples and slammed one key back under the counter. The chandelier hanging from the white-washed rafters above turned her hair to a washed-out copper tone much warmer than her words. “I only got one room worth what you gave me. Most times folks coming from back East rent it.”
“Mr. Lane here is from Boston,” Decker said pleasantly. “As long as it has a tub we’ll take it.”
“Suit yourself. Up the stairs, the one at the end of the hall. The cook might have some leftovers if you’re hungry and I’ll have Maudie fill the bath.”
“Much thanks, Miss McKinney.” Decker jerked his head towards the attached room where the faint smell of spiced soup lingered. “I’ll catch up.”
Laurie swung his carpet bag over his shoulder, glancing at Decker once more before following his nose to the other room.
Miss McKinney propped one hand on the thick brown plaid bustled at her hip, eyes glinting with suspicion at his willingness to talk. “What’s he done now?”
“A plague came through Ender’s Ridge. McKinney was the first to go,” Decker said quietly.
Her deeply lined forehead wrinkled even further. “You came all this way to tell me my good-for-nothin’ brother died? Wasted a trip.”
“There’s no one to take over the mercantile. It’s just an ordinary shop without him. There’s money to be made, Miss McKinney—and people to help you make it.” Preying on greed wasn’t a tactic Decker often used, but for her, it might work to renew some faith in town. Even if they found the cause of theplagues and made their town right again, too many shops and homes were abandoned.
Don’t want to live in a ghost town.
She sniffed, tapping gnarled fingertips against the counter before she asked, “Did you at least give him a proper burial?”
At least she had one caring bone. “His grave is marked, like the others we couldn’t save.”
