off trying to save Daisy, Ben and his gang robbed a bank. They fired me when Ben got away. I’m pretty sure the sheriff was on Ben’s payroll, but I can’t prove it.”
“So, what do you want with Daisy?”
Will shook his head. “Nothing. I was here trailing Ben, hoping to see if I could find out anything about his plans. I saw you and thought for a moment you might be Daisy, that’s all.”
“When did you last see her?” Her posture had softened enough that he didn’t think he was in danger of being shot anymore, but as long as she held the gun, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Why don’t you put the gun down and then we can talk?”
“Fine.” She sat in a chair across from him and set the gun in her lap. “But don’t think I won’t shoot you. You wouldn’t be my first.”
Hard. In all the places where Daisy was soft. Where Mary... Will pushed the thought of the other woman aside. She had no business sneaking into his brain now. Not when he was face-to-face with the reminder of why he wouldn’t even consider getting involved with anyone connected to Ben Perry.
Will cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, are you going to tell me your name?”
From this angle, the light hit her face in such a way that he could see the detail of her features better. In daylight, he’d have never mistaken her for Daisy.
“Melissa. But I’m known as Mad Mel.” She picked up the gun again and studied it. “Came by the name honestly, if you know what I mean.”
Mel looked up at him. “I believe you were telling me about when you last saw my sister.”
Will took a deep breath. If she truly was mad, then she wouldn’t like his side of the story. Especially since she’d already made clear that Daisy would have never gotten involved with Ben.
“Last I saw her, she was getting on the back of a horse with Ben and riding out of Century City.”
A dark look crossed Mel’s face. “He must’ve been forcing her. Why didn’t you stop them?”
“Because I’d just been shot and lay bleeding in the middle of the street.” He declined to add the fact that Daisy was the one who’d shot him—on Ben’s order. Out of habit, he rubbed the still-healing spot that had laid him up for weeks. Sometimes he could feel the bullet still burning a hole in his belly, even though the doc said he’d gotten it all.
“He pulled a gun on her, then?” The tone in Mel’s voice was so hopeful that Will couldn’t let her keep believing a lie. Maybe Daisy had been that person at one point in time, but that wasn’t who she was anymore.
“No. She went willingly. Kissed him passionately before he helped her onto the horse.”
Oddly, that fact didn’t sting the way he’d thought it would. He’d replayed the scene over and over in his mind while recuperating, thinking that she’d have been kinder to him had she just killed him outright. But she hadn’t. She’d shot him and left him in a pool of his own blood, then kissed the man she’d once promised to help him bring down.
“Why would she do that?” Pain slashed across Mel’s face, and Will almost felt bad for telling her the truth.
“I don’t know,” he simply said. “I honestly don’t.”
Mel must’ve believed him, because she stood, then put the gun back in the drawer she’d taken it from. “Daisy always said she hated him.”
“She’d told me the same thing.” And if he hadn’t been shot, then seen her kissing Ben, he’d have still believed it.
Silence filled the room, and he looked around. The room was just as nice as what he’d been given at Rafferty’s hotel, only made a little more like home with some personal items strewn about. Mel was clearly not some throwaway woman of the night.
Will walked to the bureau and picked up a framed portrait of two young girls. “This the two of you when you were younger?”
Mel stood and joined him, taking the frame out of his hands. “Before our father died, yes.”
It was easy enough to piece together the rest of the story on his own. Without anyone to care for them, Mel had adopted the world’s oldest profession to provide for her younger sister. He looked at her, wishing he could do something about the tears in her eyes or the way she gripped the frame tightly.
“I did everything to give her a good life.” Mel returned his look with a mournful expression that made his gut wound ache even more. “Why would she take up with Ben Perry?”
Will would like to ask that question himself. Why would she take up with Ben Perry? Not just of Daisy, but of Mary, a sweet woman who spent her time working with a preacher and feeding down-and-out miners. How could such goodness be attracted to such evil?
“I wish I knew,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news of your sister. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
Then he turned toward Mel. “I still plan on taking down Ben Perry. I’d be obliged if you’d keep an ear out for me.”
“We’ll see.” The hard expression had returned to her face. Mel wasn’t likely to do anything that would jeopardize her chances of finding her sister. For Mel’s sake, Will hoped Daisy wanted to be found.
He gave her a nod, then turned toward the door.
“Not that way,” Mel said, pointing to another door. “We’re not supposed to bring men into the boardinghouse, so I need to take you back through the saloon. Alma will be furious if she finds out I had you in here.”
“Alma?”
“She owns the place. Thinks that if she gives us women of the night a good home we’ll eventually see the light and repent of our sins. Alma means well, even if it’ll never get her anywhere.”
Mel’s frank assessment made Will sadder for Alma than he would have thought. The realities of the lives of women like Mel were not that they changed.
Yet he couldn’t forget the wistful look in Mel’s eyes as she talked about wanting a better life for Daisy. He had wanted a better life for Daisy. Stupidly, Will had thought he’d be able to provide it for her.
Perhaps he and Mel weren’t so different after all.
A lightness he hadn’t known since the shooting filled his heart. Yes, he’d loved Daisy, but for the first time it hit him that maybe it wasn’t the romantic kind of love he wanted in a wife. Maybe it was the sister kind of love. Sure, he’d kissed Daisy, but most of them had been on the forehead. The couple of times he’d tried to kiss her on the lips, she’d turned her head, and he’d gotten her cheek instead. He’d already known that he was over her, but now maybe he could accept that he’d never truly loved her at all.
A knock sounded at the door. “Mel?” The whispered voice was urgent.
“It’s okay, you can come in,” Mel called back. She glanced at Will. “Get behind the changing screen.”
He
