Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 23

Joe grabbed her arm and glanced around the alleyway. “Did anyone else see you?”

Trembling from head to toe and sick to her stomach, Grace was too dazed to answer. She was sickened by what she did, but she also knew Slaughter deserved it. She had to save herself and the girl.

But although she had killed in the battle, this was different . . . uglier somehow. Something had happened inside her soul.

Wrapping an arm around her, Joe whisked Grace past the reverend, without a word, and around the corner into the back door of the Bird Cage.

They almost bumped into the girl Grace had just saved; she stood huddled in the corner among the bags of stacked flour and supplies, shivering.

“She —” the girl said to Joe, grasping Grace by the hand, “she saved me.”

Joe studied her. “Do you work here?” he said urgently. “Can you help us? She needs to clean up before anyone discovers what she’s done.”

He motioned to the blood on Grace’s hands and clothing. Grace hadn’t even noticed it was there, and she thought hazily that it must have been from when she bent down over Slaughter’s body.

The girl’s voice was soft and shaky. “I just do the laundry for the Bird Cage.”

Joe’s voice was desperate. “She has to get cleaned up.”

“I’ll show her where the bath is.” She turned to Joe. “They don’t let men up there that haven’t . . . paid.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait in the saloon. Just hurry.”

The girl reached for Grace’s arm. Her callused palms were rough against Grace’s skin. “I think I can get you water too.” She peeked around the corner. “We just have to wait until Cora’s back is turned.” After a few moments, she said, “Quick now!” She dragged Grace toward a dark corner and a set of stairs, and they rushed past the rooms and entered a bathroom.

“Close the door and lock it. I’ll stand guard out here.”

A small, dirty mirror hung over the washstand in the corner. Grace stared at her reflection, still in a daze. Her face was almost as pale white as the china pitcher and bowl, except where it was smeared with Slaughter’s blood from her fingers. Her blue eyes looked as cold and hard as ice, and there was a strange new glitter in her eyes.

Would she lose herself completely if she followed this path?

Grace shook her head. She had begun her mission and wouldn’t be able to stop until justice had been handed out to every one of them, one way or another.

Hurriedly, she used the water in the pitcher to wash her face and scrub at the blood on her shirt and pants.

A commotion outside the door caused Grace’s hand to stop, mid-wipe.

“Outta the way, girlie. I gotta get in there.”

“No.” The girl’s voice squeaked. She obviously wasn’t used to standing up to people, and it showed in the tone of her voice.

“What do you mean, no?” The blustery voice struck fear into Grace’s heart.

That twang was unmistakable. Sheriff Behan. Grace’s hand stilled. She just killed one of his cronies and still had the bloodstains on her clothes. If he knew what she had done . . .

Scuffling sounded outside the door. “Please, sir, someone’s in there. An important person. They need privacy.”

The sheriff laughed. “Paid you well, did they, to guard the door?”