Dread Nation (Dread Nation #1)(77)

Chapter 29


In Which I Struggle to Keep from Committing Homicide


I discover even before joining Katherine in the rich end of town that she has taken to her role of displaced lady like a duck to water. A very arrogant, snobbish duck.

After a week of rest I’m mostly healed up. The cuts and raw spots have crusted over enough that I can mostly move around, and even though my back twinges when I move too quickly, it’s nothing I can’t ignore.

When the Duchess brings me clothes to put on they are nothing like the trousers and rough-spun shirt I was given before. I stare at the lovely calico dress in awe, fingers grazing the fine blue-patterned weave. Blue is my second favorite color, and I’m almost afraid to contemplate that the lovely dress might actually be for me.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Since the story of Miss Deveraux’s dire straits have made the rounds, Sheriff Snyder has been bending over backward to see to her comfort. Katherine asked that you be given a new dress, since it is unseemly that her Attendant should be seen in the garb of a field hand.” The Duchess says this last bit in Katherine’s accent, and I snort to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yes, that sounds like my Miss Katherine, all right,” I say, going along with the act just in case anyone might be listening. For the sheriff to believe that Katherine is a lady, he needs to believe that I’m her faithful companion. A month ago, it would’ve been a hard sell. But my time in Summerland has most definitely changed that, and I am willing to pretend to be just about anything in order to win my freedom from this place.

Luckily, Katherine has already laid most of the groundwork for me.

I dress quickly, the movement tugging the scabs in an uncomfortable, but not painful, way. The dress fits perfectly, as though it were made for me. The hem is a little shorter than could be considered modest, hitting me just above the tops of my knees, right where I like it to be. What I like to think of as fighting length. There are a pair of loose trousers to go underneath for modesty’s sake, and although I don’t have all of the weaponry, I’m wearing a very close approximation of an Attendant’s garb.

I pull on my boots and stand, feeling pretty good even though I’ve been abed the past week. The Duchess purses her lips and hands me the Confederate sword I’d been using. Someone found a scabbard for it, which raises all kinds of questions. “They sent this on over for you as well. The Lady Katherine is waiting for you in the sheriff’s office.”

I nod and take the sword, belting the scabbard around my waist. I feel better having a real weapon, but I still ache for my sickles. Swords are nice and all, but they don’t much compare to a pair of well-made short blades.

“You have any luck with that medicine I was asking about?”

The Duchess shakes her head. “The girls’ been suffering through their menses, even though I been asking. Guess your Miss Katherine is going to have to suffer as well.” The meaning behind her words is clear: no laudanum.

“I don’t suppose there are any opium joints in town?” It’s a stretch, but I’m thinking that maybe I can lace one of the sheriff’s cigarettes with the drug, make him compliant, and then just finish the job.

The Duchess purses her lips and shakes her head. “We don’t allow any Chinese folks in town, the preacher’s made that clear.”

I sigh. “Well, thank you for your help anyway, Duchess.”

She nods. “You can repay me by convincing the tinkerer to fix my bath, since you seem to have his ear.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise but say nothing.

I leave the saloon through the side entrance my patrol used every morning, brain working through the possibilities. I need to find a way to get out of town once the sheriff is put down, and fast. I get the feeling that the sheriff’s men will quickly be able to ascertain what transpired and who the likely culprit is. I have my concerns about making it back to Rose Hill in one piece anyway, but I ain’t getting out of town at all if I’m lynched.

So outright murdering the sheriff in broad daylight is off the table, more’s the pity. But there’s a hundred ways a man can end up dead without any kind of real knowing who did it.

I’m working through a couple of scenarios, one of them involving rat poison and soup, even though poison is a cowardly way to murder a man, when I stop short. A few feet away, decked out like the belle of the ball, is Katherine, surrounded by a few of the drovers. That ain’t at all unusual, since from what I’ve seen there ain’t many unattached ladies in Summerland, and those that ain’t spoken for make a living on their backs.

But what ain’t normal is the look of sheer panic on Katherine’s face.

I duck my head and make a beeline to the group. “All right, fellas, move it along.” I make a shooing motion with my hands, falling right back into my Attendant training.

A couple turn to look back at me, but no one steps away from Katherine. They’re like bees on a particularly sweet flower, stubborn and focused. Good thing I know how to handle bees.

I draw my sword and smack the nearest suitor across the back of his head with the flat of my blade. “Hey, what’s the big—” His eyes go wide when he realizes my blade is now only a few inches from his eye.

“Move. Now.”

He scampers off, along with a few other fellows, the lot of them muttering curses but too cowardly to do anything more than that. Their departure clears enough of a path that I can grab Katherine’s arm and wrench her away from the rest of her suitors without any further violence. The men say nothing, not even a single swear, and I take that to be because they’re still trying to put their best foot forward with the mysterious Katherine Deveraux, fine lady from the east.