Her Secret Shame Read online

Mr. Higgins eyed Misty up and down, narrowing his eyes at her. “Misty, I will not have such things going on under my roof. If you know anything, you should tell me.”

  Misty shook her head, grabbing the napkins again, and holding them close to her chest. “It was a misunderstanding. I’m sorry.”

  It was a few beats of her pounding heart before Mr. Higgins seemed to believe her. “The soup is almost ready. Just take out the napkins and see if Clover needs any help out there.”

  Misty nodded her head, whirling around towards the door leading to the dining room. When she entered the other room, she looked around. There were a few patrons around, mostly men in business suits. Those were the types that were usually at the hotel, as this was frequently just one stop of many on their journey out west. She looked around to find Clover Kelly in the corner, flirting with a few men on a table in the corner. Misty cautiously walked closer, careful to tug at the lady’s skirt. Clover looked down and then at Misty. Misty motioned to the other end of the room, where Clover followed her, but not without bidding the men a giggly good-bye.

  They stood in front of a rolling cart, while Misty laid out the napkins, wrapping them up in neat little squares. Clover took one of the cloth squares from Misty’s stack and mimicked Misty. “I heard you gave the gentleman in room three quite the bloody nose.”

  Misty snorted. “Yes, and I wonder why he got it?” She gave a sideways glance towards Clover, heat fuming between her ears.

  “Sweetie, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Misty abruptly slammed the napkin down on the tabletop, startling Clover and making the tray roll to the right. “You know exactly what I mean. That man, he was expecting something. A something I have told you repeatedly I am not in the business to sell.”

  Clover smirked. She was older than Misty, by possibly eight to ten years, which put her well above the normal marrying age. She prettied up her plain face to make herself more enticing, as her body was far more attractive to the men around the hotel. Misty had regarded her as more of a cruel beauty; she had suspected there were invisible strings to attach to any unsuspecting man who looked her way. Misty wouldn’t know those strings until she had worked side-by-side with her.

  “My apologies, it was a miscommunication on my part. Emma was the one who was supposed to be going to the room; I didn’t know Higgins would ask you to take linens.” She handed the linen square to Misty, who dropped it back on the pile. “My offer still stands though,” she said, grasping at Misty’s chin, turning it so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “You’d make quite the prize for any man. You’d be making more money than anything that old man could ever offer you. You might even get yourself a husband out of it too.”

  She knew Clover’s game. She had heard about Clover’s infatuation with the husband of the woman she used to serve in Pennsylvania, Samantha Jenkins. She had tried to get Seth Jenkins’ attention, just as another woman, by the name of Hannah Rose, had tried to before her. This Hannah, however, had gone the route that Clover had mentioned before; she had found herself a wealthy husband from Clover’s side business and had traveled far away from this town. She often felt that there was a slight possibility Clover felt green with envy every time she thought about this, as she herself hadn’t enticed a man to do more than share her bed.

  But Misty had seen what this type of money could do to a person and she wanted no part of it. This money was filthy, in her mind, and she could never live with herself if she knew what she had to do to get it.

  “As I have said before, I am uninterested in such things,” Misty replied, snatching the stack of napkins, then turning to set them on the empty tables.

  Clover grasped her arm, turning her around, and moved closer until Misty could feel her hot breath on her cheeks. Clover had a menacing look as she stared down at Misty. Standing only a few inches taller than Misty, Clover capitalized on the height. “Then stay out of my way, if you know what’s good for you,” she hissed, as she stepped around to go back to the table with the handsome young men.

  Misty took a deep breath and went to the empty tables. Clover didn’t scare her; she had dealt with madams scarier than her, with less to lose and more to gain. But, she had only just begun to find a life here in Black Hills, Illinois. She couldn’t go back to Pennsylvania, as there was no job there to go back to, and she wasn’t keen to return to her hometown, though she wasn’t sure there was a home to go back to. So, she needed to do her best to make do with the situation. And hopefully, it wouldn’t involve her punching out any other men with more-than-friendly touches.

  John Henderson scratched his head and sighed. He was at a loss for words, as he stared at the fence before him.

  “I just mended this fence a few days ago! How can it be destroyed already?” shouted Tom Barrett, who was standing to the left of him. “I can’t keep going back into town to gather supplies. We are going to be in the poor house if things continue like this.” He turned to John, with anger in his eyes. “How are we going to fix this, Sheriff?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Tom. I’ve never seen anything like this.” There was a rustle behind them and both gentlemen turned to see Seth Jenkins come rushing up the hill on horseback. When he reached the men, he swung off the horse, hitting the dirt between them. “Did you see, Sheriff?”

  Tom rolled his eyes. “I just showed it to him, but he doesn’t seem to have an answer. Isn’t he supposed to be the great protector of the town?” he said, sarcastically.

  John inwardly groaned. He hated the moniker the town had given him. He was thirty-five years old and had only been in the job the last five years. The post became his after his father had died out in the field by a murderous robber who was terrorizing the town. He hunted the man down in the outskirts of the city, shooting him dead. The whole event haunted him in his deepest dreams. The town, however, regarded him as a hero and never missed a chance to renown him, much to his dislike.

  If it was up to him, he would have rather been a farmer and had a ranch, just like the Jenkins/Barrett ranch he was now standing on. But fate had other ideas and here he was, with the sheriff’s hat, star, and horse, along with all the responsibility of keeping a town safe. A responsibility he didn’t want.

  Seth ignored his friend and sidled up to the sheriff. “We lost a few more cattle too. I don’t know what we can do. For now, I’ve been telling Tom we should probably keep them in the barn; but it’s still damaged from the fire. We are running out of time before winter comes. But with all the repairs and replacement cattle, we are a bit tight on the incoming money. With the baby almost here, I don’t want to waste any more of Samantha’s accounts to stop a problem we don’t even know the cause of.”

  John sighed, grabbing his hat to drag across his forehead. “I think I can send George up here to help.” George was one of his deputies who patrolled the town.

  “You’d be able to give him up?” Seth asked. “I don’t think I could pay him right away for the work.”

  “I have a few other men in town to patrol, so I’m sure we will be fine. And don’t worry about paying him with money. A warm bed and a home cooked meal should be plenty to satisfy him.”

  Seth sighed with relief, but Tom didn’t seem convinced. “But what we going to do about the cattle bandits? Every ranch within a few miles is experiencing the same thing! We are a lot better off than some of the smaller ones.” Tom walked to stand in front of John. “I don’t want to bring Elizabeth and baby Madeline back to the ranch until its safe for them to be here. How are we going to fix this?” he impatiently asked again.

  John knew what he had to do, when he looked at Tom’s exasperated face. He slammed his large hand on Tom’s shoulder and looked towards the setting sun. “Just leave it to me. I’ll make sure I find whoever is doing this.”

  Tom raised an eyebrow, still unconvinced, but Seth went to grab his best friend and business partner. “Come, Tom, we should let the sheriff do his job.” John heard the
voices trailing behind him; honor and duty to his job was what was going to keep him on task to find out what exactly was happening. Even if he wasn’t too convinced he could figure it all out to the satisfaction of his constituents.

  Chapter 2

  Heat seeped into the hallway as Misty carried a large basket of sheets to the end of the hall. Her task for the day was to change the bedding of all the unoccupied rooms, a job all the women had bullied her into. Mr. Higgins employed only eight women for the whole hotel, three of which worked exclusively in the dining room. Out of the five women left, all but Misty was a part of Clover’s additional business venture, so they were attending to other duties for the night. It was Mr. Higgins’ assumption, as he had retired for the night, each girl would turn a few beds before going to bed themselves.

  However, Clover had other ideas and pushed the work to her only non-working girl. This is how Misty found herself going down the hallway by herself to the end, struggling to open the last room with her right hand as she tried to balance the wicker basket on her left hip.

  Behind her, she heard a door creak open. “Misty! What are you doing with all that?” said a familiar voice. “Where are the other girls?” Misty tried to turn around, but in her haste, she spilled the sheets onto the floor. She groaned and went to her knees to try to gather the linens. “Oh, let me assist you,” said the voice as a woman kneeled beside her, grasping at the sheets.

  Misty tried to put her hands forward to stop her. “Mrs. Jenkins, you shouldn’t be kneeling down. I don't need the help, and shouldn’t you be in bed anyway?” She looked over at the woman, who was on her knees as well, trying to reach over her swelling belly.

  “How many times must I tell you to call me Samantha. Please let me help. I’m getting restless and the baby won’t let me sleep,” she said, with a small pout as she pressed her hand onto her stomach.

  Misty looked beyond the open door behind them. “What of Elizabeth and Madeline?”

  “Elizabeth was exhausted when she came back today from the church. They almost have all the items they need to utilize the church as a makeshift classroom while they wait for the school to be built. I had already put little Maddie to bed, so I thought I would let her have some well-deserved sleep.”

  Misty smiled. She had only known Elizabeth for a few months, but she was happy to call her a friend. Samantha used to be her employer, back when Misty was a maid in Pennsylvania. She had taken a chance on her, a young girl with nowhere else to go, only on the word of her adopted uncle’s secretary. She knew how lonely Samantha was, without a mother and with her father recently murdered.

  Misty was happy Samantha was now married to an honorable man and expecting their first child. She finally had a new life with friends that she wasn’t paying to work for her. Not that Misty didn’t enjoy Samantha’s company when she did work for her, but now she could freely be around her and call her a dear friend. Old habits simply died hard.

  “You should be resting yourself,” Misty said, grabbing the last of the sheets to set in the basket before turning around and opening the door. “You should go to bed too. It’s rather late and I don’t want Seth to be angry with me in the morning that I made his wife tired by putting her to work.”

  Samantha laughed and waved her hands. “Don’t worry about him. If he says anything, just tell him it was my choice,” she said as she sidestepped around Misty. Seth was fiercely protective of his family and regarded Samantha as a fragile doll, especially in these last few months. Samantha just laughed at him before telling him he needed to stop being so protective of her.

  Samantha thought everything Seth did was sweet, even if everyone else could see he was being a tad bit overbearing. But Tom was about just as overprotective of his own wife Elizabeth, so maybe it was an affectionate way for husbands to show their wives they loved them. Misty wouldn’t know herself, since she had never had a man feel such intense feelings for her before. Even when she was younger, and thought she was in love, she realized in hindsight that it wasn’t.

  An image of John Henderson flashed through her mind, before she willed the thought away. She wouldn’t allow herself to get attached, not again. She set the basket in the doorway, before going and closing the door Samantha had left open. She had noticed Samantha was getting rather forgetful; it was as if the little one growing inside her was taking up all the thoughts in her mind. When she entered the empty hotel room, Samantha had already lit a candle to illuminate their surroundings.

  “Why are you the only one working?” Samantha asked curiously, as she took out one of the crumpled sheets from the basket to fold.

  Misty shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “They seemed tired, as it was a busy day in the dining room. I offered to do the night chores, so they could go to bed,” she lied. Misty always marveled how easy it was for her to lie; a skill she had developed when she was a child and had to make excuses for her mother’s whereabouts to her young sister. She felt it was a gift at the time, but now a curse. She hated to lie to her precious friend Samantha, but she felt like she had no other choice. Each word tasted like poison as it rolled off her tongue.

  “How nice of you!” Samantha exclaimed, seemingly accepting the lie. She smiled widely, finishing folding the sheet she had in her hands and walking to grab another. “I’ve seen the sheriff milling around. He seems to be around often. I wonder why?” she said coyly.

  Not again, Misty thought to herself. Samantha tended to try to play matchmaker. When Misty first came to the town, at Samantha’s invitation, she had tried to entice her to have an interest in her husband’s best friend, Tom. And although Misty could admit Tom was quite a man to look at, he was not someone Misty would be interested in having court her, let alone marry. She felt Tom was way too flirtatious with other woman and didn’t have a serious bone in his body.

  When Misty first met him, he seemed to be leading his life in a careless fashion, with no real direction or reason to settle down. Then Elizabeth arrived in town prepared to marry a different man. That man, however, rejected Elizabeth once he saw she brought her niece with her and tried to force her into working at the saloon to pay off her train fare. Tom stepped in and married her within 15 minutes. Misty adored her new friend and was pleased Tom found someone in his life. It also meant Samantha would possibly find other ways to entertain herself.

  This thought seemed to slide above Samantha’s mind. Misty folded the sheet and returned it to the basket before grabbing another. “Why wouldn’t he be around? He is the sheriff.”

  Samantha smiled slyly. “Yes, but he’s been within the vicinity of the hotel, when he really should be out patrolling the town. I ask again, wonder why that is?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Misty answered, trying to go about her chores in the room. She was regretting letting Samantha into the room, even if she was giving her a hand in folding the laundry. “Mr. Higgins has probably asked him to patrol a bit more.”

  “I think it has to do with a certain someone working in the hotel.”

  Misty snorted. “Clover, possibly?”

  Samantha scoffed. “Clover? John has more class than that.”

  Misty hated to even mention Clover’s name, but she did it as a last-ditch effort to end the conversation. She had questioned, innocently, about whether the sheriff was a patron to Clover one day when they were washing clothes in the back. Clover laughed at the idea, telling Misty the sheriff was too official and proper to even think of partaking in such deeds. She also said if the sheriff was aware of the operation, he would end it as soon as he could, which meant the sheriff, under no circumstances, could find out of Clover’s secret business.

  It seemed to put Misty on notice to Clover, to which Misty never questioned Clover about the business again. She felt the less she knew the better.

  Still, Samantha seemed to have a low opinion of Clover, being she still openly flirted with Seth, especially in front of his pregnant wife. Clover had no shame and Misty knew this; she also knew Seth was hop
elessly devoted to his family and would never do anything to harm them. Samantha knew this too; but it would be a lie to say that it didn’t ruffle her feathers when Clover would reach over and pat Seth’s shoulders when they were partaking of a meal in the hotel restaurant.

  “In all honesty, I haven’t noticed John being around that much.”

  This was also a lie. All John’s movements were strictly noticed by Misty. She couldn’t help but follow him whenever they were in the same room, being careful not to raise any suspicion. This was true even when she first laid eyes on him. She remembered that incident; the first time she got into a scuffle with a patron at the hotel. She had misread an interaction from a man, and all heck broke loose when she gave him a black eye and a bloody lip.

  Misty was still a little jumpy from the train over here, as she was propositioned by a few men who had recognized her from her small town in Georgia. It was her red hair that always brought attention to her, as it was a unique feature and rare to see in those parts. She hid in her train cabin through the entire ride to avoid them.

  When the older gentlemen stopped her in the hallway and asked her for the extra pillow, and placed his hand on her shoulder as she headed to the linen closet, she had overreacted to the situation.

  She thought for sure that night Mr. Higgins would fire her; but instead, he sent for the sheriff and somehow, John was able to calm the gentleman down. And while everyone else had yelled at her, he simply came to ask her how it happened and consoled her in a way that no one had ever done for her before.

  She heard stories about the famed savior sheriff. His mother had died young, leaving their father to take care of him and his little sister. Then, his father took the job of sheriff when no one else wanted it. He worked tirelessly for twenty years before he was fatally shot in a bank robbery gone wrong.

  John picked up his father’s tin star and went after the robber, a fabled bandit who had terrorized every town within a forty-five-mile radius. Many had tried to take down this criminal; from those, many had lost their lives. But John, somehow, defied expectation and was able to take down the bandit and avenge his father’s death. The townspeople praised him, as if he was a living, breathing saint.