“Don’t be scared, angel. Bessie and Ike’ll take care of you. They know how to keep these hicks in line. They’re all out workin’ right now anyway. Come on. I’ll take you in to meet them.
He led her into the building.
A plump woman standing over a cookstove greeted them. “Bobby Morgan, as I live and breathe.”
“Hello, Bessie.”
“And who’s this pretty thing? Don’t tell me you went and settled down.”
“No.” Bobby flushed.
Naomi’s breath caught at the rosiness in his chiseled cheeks.
“You know me better than that. This here’s Miss Naomi Blackburn. I need you to see to her, if you don’t mind. And get Ike to get her passage home. To Dugan. Her pa’s the preacher there.”
“And just how’d she end up with you? As if I didn’t know.”
“Take it easy. It was all a silly misunderstanding. Seems I was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time during a furlough in Dugan. This lady was my ticket out of town. I’ve taken good care of her, but I got to get back to work, and you know my work’s no place for a lady. I need to sniff out Daily again before his trail gets cold.”
“If you say so. Good Lord knows it ain’t none of my business.” Her double chin jiggled when she laughed. “But I’ll ask anyway. Did this man hurt you, honey?”
Naomi gulped.
“Now, Bessie, you know I’d never hurt a lady,” Bobby said. “Come on now.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby, but there she stands in dirty clothes and her hair in a mussed braid. I need to hear it from her.”
Bobby looked at her expectantly. She shook her head. “I’m fine, ma’am. Truly. I just...I just really want to go home.”
Bessie’s lips curved into a welcoming smile. “We’ll take care of you, honey. We owe Bobby here that much. I think Ike’s out in the office tent...nope, here he comes now.”
“Morgan.” A tall gray-haired man held out his hand. “Been a little while since we’ve seen you.”
“Only ’bout a month, Ike. I need to do some transactin’.”
Naomi shuddered as the older man’s eyes raked over her body. They were ice blue and bloodshot. His gray moustache twitched, and he rubbed his hands over his soiled dungarees.
“What do you need?” he asked Bobby.
“A decent horse and saddle, and a piece, two if you can find ’em. Clothes. Some food to take with me. And a new dress for the lady.”
Ike choked out a chortle and then spit on the ground. “Can’t say I can find you a dress. She’s a little smaller than Bessie.”
“Really, Mr. Morgan, I don’t need a dress,” Naomi said, fingering her bedraggled garment. “This will do fine. I’ll be home soon.”
Bobby smiled at her and continued, “Blue, Ike. Blue or Violet. I’ll make it worth your while. And I need you to get her home to Dugan. Her and her horse.”
“That I can do. First thing tomorrow. I won’t ask you what she’s doin’ here, Bobby, but I hope you’ve taken care of her. She reminds me of my oldest girl.”
“I have. No harm has come to her. But she wants to go home.”
“She can stay with Bessie tonight.” Ike spit again, and though Naomi’s stomach churned at the wad of tobacco that landed on the dirt floor of the shanty, her mind eased. This man had a daughter her age. She’d be safe with him. And Bobby trusted him. That fact soothed her even more.
“Thank you kindly,” Bobby said. “Now about my other business.”
“Go on out to the office, and I’ll see what we can do for you. Bessie’ll take care of your lady.”
“Come on, honey.” Bessie took Naomi’s arm. “I’ll show you where I bunk down. It ain’t much, but you can clean yourself up a little, take care of necessary business. Then we’ll see about getting you a snack. You hungry?”