As David watched, two droplets rolled down her face to fall on the blank piece of stationery. She brushed them away with an angry wave of her hand.
“What?”
Tessa raised her head. “I can make out some words here and there, but all I can truly read and write is my name.”
The belligerent look on her face cut into David’s heart. “Show me.”
Gripping the pencil tightly and holding the paper steady with her right hand, Tessa bent her head and laboriously printed her name. Finished, she handed the paper to
David. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
David set his coffee mug aside and studied the paper. The letters were big, childishly formed, and unevenly spaced, but they were recognizable. “Tessa,” he said quietly. “Very good.”
Tessa let the pencil drop from her hand and released the breath she was holding with a sigh of relief. She’d done it. She’d remembered.
“Can you write anything else?” David asked. “Your surname?”
“No,” Tessa admitted in a tiny voice. “My brother was teaching me.”
He frowned at the thought that crossed his mind. “Does anyone else know you can’t read and write?”
“Just my brother, Eamon,” she told him. “But he’s dead. He died right before I left Chicago.”
“I’m sorry.” David responded to the sadness in her voice. He hadn’t known she had a brother or that she’d come to Wyoming from Chicago. But then, he knew next to nothing about Tessa Roarke. That was something David intended to change. The thought of all the pain and the secrets she kept hidden bothered him more than he liked to admit. “What about Coalie?”
“He thinks I’m so grand,” Tessa said. “Do you think I’d be proud to tell him I couldn’t read nor write anything except my name?”
“No,” David told her. “But you can learn.”
“How?” She was almost afraid to ask the question, afraid he wouldn’t have an answer or that he’d tell her she was too old to master the skills of reading and writing.
“I can teach you.”
“Now?” Tessa straightened her back and picked up the pencil once again.
David was touched by her eagerness. “Not this minute.”
Disappointment clouded her fine features.
“I can’t this morning, but I’ll agree to give you lessons if you tell me everything about Arnie Mason.”
Tessa dropped the pencil as if it burned her fingers, sucked in a ragged breath, and stared at David in something akin to horror.
“That’s not fair,” she accused.
“Life often isn’t. And believe me, Tessa, before this is over that’s what I’ll be fighting for. Your life.” David’s dark eyes reflected the seriousness of his task. “I know you have secrets and I know you’d like to keep them, but I don’t think you realize how serious this all is. I need to know what I’m up against, and I’ll use every weapon in my power to get what I need. How badly do you want to learn to read and write?”
“Real bad,” Tessa admitted. But not enough to risk Coalie’s security, she thought.
David watched the play of emotions on her face, knew she was weighing her options, and knew he’d lost when she didn’t pick up the pencil. “Think about it,” he suggested.
“I’m ready,” Coalie announced as he ran to stand in front of David. He held up his hands and waited patiently for inspection. “I washed my hands and face, even my neck and ears. With soap. Can we go now?”
David took the boy’s hands in his own and studied them, looking for signs of dirt. He gave a nod of approval as he let them go. Then, lifting Coalie’s chin with the tip of his finger, he inspected the boy’s face and the area behind his ears. “You did a fine job, but I’m afraid our plans have changed a bit.” David paused to check his pocket watch. “I have to get to the jail before nine, so I need you to escort Tessa to the mercantile to get what she needs.”
Tessa glanced up at him, surprised. “I’m allowed to go to the mercantile?”
“You can go anywhere in town as long as you’re with Coalie or me,” David cautioned, “except the depot and the stage office. And the Satin Slipper.” He gazed at Tessa, then at Coalie. “I’m trusting you, so I expect you to give me your word of honor. Okay?”