Whores, I think, from Springfield, headin’ to Dodge City. We made camp with ’em that night, and one of the whores, a pretty red-haired one, grew right fond of Hannah. She’s the one give Hannah the necklace.”

“It’s true, Miss,” Clara Simpson said. “Every word. I swear.”

“Rose?” I said.

She didn’t answer, nor take her eyes away from Joe Simpson.

I said, “It does sound like somethin’ Gina might do, give her necklace to a cute little girl she’d grown attached to.”

Ignorin’ my comment, Rose said, “Tell your wife and daughter to climb down off the wagon.”

Simpson sighed, and said, “Clara! Hannah! Do as she says.”

They climbed down from the wagon and stood beside the ox team.

“Now walk over to us,” Rose said.

From the water wagon, Phoebe shouted, “Rose, please. What’s gotten into you?”

Rose ignored her.

“All three of you,” she said. “Get on the ground, face down, with your hands behind your backs.”

Joe gave me a questionin’ look with his eyes. “Can’t you do somethin’?” he said. “Your lady friend is scarin’ my family. If it’s our possessions you’re after, you’re welcome to ’em.”

“I were you, I’d get on the ground, face down,” I said.

“She wouldn’t actually shoot us,” Joe said. Then he said, “Would she?”

“Let me put it like this,” I said. “She’s twenty, and already buried six husbands.”

The Simpson family hit the dirt like cow patties and put their hands behind their backs.

“Hold your gun on them, Emmett,” Rose said.

I did.

Rose fetched the necklace from where it lay on the grass, examined it briefly, and tossed it to me.

“See those spots on it?” she said.

I did.

“That’s blood.”

“Blood?”

“From when he cut Gina’s throat.”

 


 

 

 

26.

 

“Well, the girl didn’t cut no one’s throat,” I said.

Rose hollered, “Scarlett, come fetch Hannah. I doubt she’s their kin, anyway.”

Scarlett walked over and helped Hannah to her feet.

Rose said, “Get her comfortable, and find out what you can.”

“You tell ’em nothin’, girl, you hear?” the big man said. For the first time since we’d met him, his voice had menace in it.

“You got no call to question our girl,” he said angrily.

“Shut up,” Rose said.

Scarlett walked Hannah back to the whore wagon and picked her up and set her in it, and the whores instantly started makin’ over her. Leah got her comb out and began running it through Hannah’s hair. I believed what Rose said about Hannah not bein’ kin to the Simpsons. If she was, she didn’t seem concerned that her parents might get shot. Hell, she never said a word to ’em, nor even looked in their direction.

Rose made her way to the back of the Simpson’s wagon, and climbed in. A few minutes later she came out with a disgusted look on her face.

“There are too many sizes of clothes to fit Clara,” she said, “and too many possessions that don’t match, including some books with other folks’ names in them.”

“All easily explained,” Joe said, spittin’ dirt from his lips.

“Save your breath,” Rose said. “I can sniff a lie from twenty paces.”

Five minutes passed, then Scarlett and Phoebe helped the child out of the wagon and took her to a small outcroppin’ of rocks about fifty feet away. The three of ’em sat among the rocks, and spoke quietly.

“How long we gotta lay here in the dirt?” Joe Simpson said. “What you’re doin’ to us ain’t right.”

“We’re thirsty,” Clara said.

“Shut up,” Rose said.

A half hour passed.

Then Scarlett called Rose over.

A few minutes later, Scarlett put Hannah back in the whore’s wagon.

Rose walked over to me and nodded slowly.

I pointed at Clara.

Rose nodded again.

Then she fetched her reins and climbed in the supply wagon with Phoebe, and started headin’ down the trail. Scarlett and the others followed in their wagon.

“What’s goin’ on?” Simpson said.