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His lips pinched together, his jaw working silently for a second. Finally, he answered. “I heard tales that Desolation was a place where people are accepted…” He looked Woodson in the eye. “No questions asked.”
Woodson’s frown deepened, and Adam could see the questions ready to burst from him. His brow creased, but instead of interrogating Adam further, he jerked his head in a nod. “People are welcome to their secrets here. But…”
Adam cocked an eyebrow again. Woodson really liked hisbuts.
“Your past better not be something that puts this town in danger. And you better keep out of trouble.”
Adam shifted in his chair, but he nodded. He had no intention of getting into trouble—he never did, it just sort of seemed to find him anyway. This morning was a prime example of that. But he’d do his damn level best to steer clear of it. As for his past…well, as long as it didn’t find him—and staying put in Desolation would decrease those odds greatly—he, and the town, would be just fine.
“Good!” Mrs. DuVere said, standing with a flourish. “Now that all of that is settled, why don’t you come along with me, and we’ll get you set up with a place to stay.”
Adam rose gratefully and followed her from the tavern, conscious of the eyes that followed him. But hey, no one had chased him out of town with guns drawn or pitchforks at the ready (it was truly astounding what people would chase a man with when they were riled enough) so he counted it a win and left with a smile on his face.
Adam retrieved his saddlebags, and Mrs. DuVere sent a boy standing near the horses with Barnaby to the town’s stables and then chattered companionably while she and Adam picked their way to the half-finished boardinghouse. The first floor with its multiple sitting rooms, large dining room, and kitchen was complete and decorated with simple but luxurious taste. The second floor, though, was little more than studs dividing the space into what would be eight small bedrooms. Four of them had sheets strung on ropes to give the occupants some degree of privacy.
“It’s not much just yet, but it’ll give you a place to lay your head,” Mrs. DuVere said, leading him to one of the open rooms. There wasn’t a bed yet, but there was a small dresser with a basin and a pitcher full of water.
“There’re some sheets there on the dresser you can hang up for privacy. Hopefully we’ll have walls in the next week or so. Outhouse is down the little path out back.”
“This will do nicely, thank you, Mrs. DuVere.” Who was he to complain? It was certainly better than bunking with Barnaby in the stables.
“Now, you’re looking for work?” she asked, and Adam nodded. “Good. As you can tell, we’ve got plenty to do around here. You ever swing a hammer before?”
Adam grimaced. “No, but I’m willing to swing anything you want me to.”
Mrs. DuVere chuckled. “We’ll start with the hammer and go from there. My builder’s down a few men, so things have been slow going. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hire you. I’ll have a word with him in the morning.”
“I’m much obliged, ma’am,” Adam said, genuinely touched that she was putting herself out to help him.
“No thanks necessary, honey. I need this place finished. Plus,” she added with a grin, “having you around livens the place up. Gets the sheriff’s blood moving. It’s good for him.”
Adam chuckled. “You’ve got a bit of a mischievous streak, I think.”
She shrugged and winked at him before swinging her skirts through his empty doorway. “Can’t say I’m happy about what happened with Nora. She’s a sweet girl. That’s a mess you better clean up with as little fuss as possible. No one in this town will be happy to see her hurt.”
“Understood,” he said.
She regarded him for a second and then gave him a sharp nod and turned to go. “Supper is at six,” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ll be there!”
She waved in his direction without turning back around, and he was alone. Well, alone as a man could be with only a sheet separating him from the other tenants.
He sighed. “Might as well get settled in,” he muttered.
Though that wouldn’t take long. In fact, until he had more than a sheet protecting his things from anyone who happened to be wandering by, he’d just as soon keep everything stowed in his saddlebags. So, aside from setting up his sleep roll, there wasn’t much more to be done. Unfortunately, there were quite a few hours of daylight left. But he was suddenly so bone-tired he couldn’t fathom doing much else but lying down and sleeping for a few days.
Might as well.
First things first, though. He went to the dresser and filled the plain white basin with water from the matching pitcher and then did what he could to de-grime himself. What he’d really like was a nice, hot bath, but considering his current accommodations didn’t even have walls, an actual bathtub wasn’t something he’d hope for. He’d have to ask if there was a bathhouse in town. And a laundry. The state of his poor clothing was truly tragic.
Once he was relatively clean and had changed into a fresh shirt, he settled on his sleep roll and pulled his hat over his eyes. He’d procured a place to sleep and had a job lined up for the next morning, which would keep him in town. Which he needed, since hopefully that annulment would be coming through shortly. He’d survived his first run-in with Woodson unscathed. Mostly. The whole annulment thing wasn’t going to help him, and he had some fences to mend regarding Nora if he wanted to make friends in town.
And he did. Because if his past caught up with him—and going by his luck lately, it would—he was going to need them.
Chapter Six
Nora kept her backbone rigid until she made it through the door of her house. And then she closed it and slumped against it, closing her eyes against the tears that wanted to fall.
