Mrs. Saint! She’d tried to make him call her Jules, but he merely smiled at her and continued with ‘Mrs. Saint.’ Jules nodded brightly and walked, shoulders back, into the store. She pretended to be interested in the new shipment of gowns from France. Every few minutes she peered out the window. Damn, Thackery hadn’t moved an inch!
She spoke briefly to the dapper Monsieur David, then slipped out the back of the store. The gun shop, run by Marcus Haverson, was
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just a block down Kearny Street. She’d stolen some money from Michael’s strongbox just that morning. No, she amended to herself, it was her money too. After all, wasn’t she Mrs. Saint?
Ten minutes later, she was the proud owner of a derringer. In another ten minutes she had rejoined Thackery.
Thackery arched a black brow. His young mistress looked awfully smug, and there wasn5t one package in her arms. He wondered what she was up to. This jaunt of hers into a dress shop, looking all sorts of innocent and guileless, was unusual, and he was suspicious. She was a handful, but he didn’t mind that. She was never boring. But she was unhappy. He was quite certain of that, even though she never said anything particularly unhappy. She was bright, chatty-, interested in everything they saw. They’d visited the Russ Gardens, the old Dolores Mission, even the racetrack. But still …
He supposed it natural for her to be wary of that bastard Wilkes. But he would see to that man if he ever dared to show his face. No, it wasn5t all Wilkes, he didn’t think. He wished he could figure it out. Her husband was a very nice man who, as far as Thackery could tell, treated his young wife like one of those pieces of Dresden china Mrs.
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Hammond loved so much.
‘I didn’t like anything,’ Jules said, which was true, she supposed. She twisted her hands a bit nervously, aware of Thackery’s suspicious look. To her relief, he didn’t say anything. It didn’t occur to her until later that she didn’t know a single thing about guns. She eyed the long-barreled gun tucked into Thackery’s belt, realizing she had to trust somebody. It was late afternoon, but she said to Thackery, ‘I would like to ride to the ocean. We’re very close to the stables. All right?’
Thackery merely nodded. He would have preferred a visit to the Saxtons. He and Lucas were becoming friends, and he was fascinated by Lucas’ tales of the gold fields.
When they reached the ocean, he listened with half an ear to Mrs. Saint carrying on about some long-legged birds that were skittering across the sand dunes. A bird was a bird, for God’s sake.
When Jules saw that they were quite alone, she paused a moment, drew a deep breath, and blurted out, ‘I bought a derringer, Thackery. I want you to teach me how to use it.’
‘So,’Thackery said on a deep breath, ‘that’s what you were up to.’
‘Will you teach me how to use it?’ Jules
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asked, her eyes steady on his face.
Thackery scratched the black woolly hair on his head. ‘No, ma’am,’ he said finally. ‘That’s my job. Ain’t nobody going to get to you while I’m here.’
‘If you don’t teach me, I will sneak away and practice by myself. You know I can do it, Thackery.’
‘You need to have your bottom thwacked, Mrs. Saint,’Thackery said, his dark eyes calm on her upturned face.
Jules said nothing, trying to stare him down. But Thackery was made of stern stuff. ‘I’ll tell Dr. Saint,’ he said.
‘He won’t care!’
Thackery looked thoughtful. ‘Why not?’ She looked to him as though she wanted to cry and spit all at the same time. She said finally,’I am his cross to bear.You must know that he saved me, Thackery, then had to marry me because my father kicked me out. He didn’t want to, but he’s honorable. He really doesn’t care what I do or don’t do, just so long as I don’t bother him.’
Thackery heard the pain in her voice, and his reaction to it shocked him. He knew loyalty, indeed he did. Both the good Lord and Thackery knew how much he owed Mr. Hammond. But he’d sworn he’d never again trust another white. Until Mrs. Saint. Poor