Jack waited in the hotel for someone to notice her. It was not that she hadn't asked for a room, but it appeared the owners were anything but ready to accommodate her. She stood there, annoyed. Her hands were on her hanging belt, rattling any time she decided to shift her weight impatiently. If she had to guess, she reckoned she was waiting for almost half an hour.
"I apologize for makin' you wait," a woman said when she returned to Jack.
The plump short woman with bonnet over her purple hair was the one that Miss Garner had called "Sarah Bradshaw." Mrs. Bradshaw was not much older than Jack, but the stress of being a housewife and hotel maid had aged her at a higher rate. Just like any of the other Broadbrook folk, she was covered in dust and grime from just being outside.
"Ain't not a problem, ma'am," Jack smiled. "I am certainly not in any rush."
"It's just that we don't often have actual guests here," Mrs. Bradshaw explained sheepishly. "My husban' an' I usually just give out breakfast or supper to the mining men."
Jack simply shrugged, understanding the circumstances of the hotel's inefficient manners. Because she said nothing, Mrs. Bradshaw gave a weak smile, unsure of what to do next.
"I'll uh, show you to your room," the woman said.
Abby then walked through the door. Seeing her big sister follow the thick woman up the stairs, she scurried over to catch up. She almost fumbled over as she was carrying some of the supplies she had purchased from the store. Jack looked back at and smiled.
"Ya got the supplies, thank the Lord," Jack said. "Now hand me a cigarette."
"Didn't get any," Abby looked down as she knew what was going to happen next.
"Then what kind of sister are ya?" Jack frowned in disappointment.
Mrs. Bradshaw led them through a dark, tight corridor to their room. The hotel room was as expected, a bed, a table, and nothing else. It was most likely the only room Mrs. Bradshaw or her hiding husband had cleaned and was most likely the reason Jack had waited so long. Even if it had been clean, it was hard to tell. Cobwebs were in every corner of the room and a half-inch layer of dust coated the floor. One could easily see the shoe prints that disturbed the resting dirt.
"Well, I've seen worse," Abby remarked with a shrug. "Lots worse."
"Quiet!" Jack hissed at her.
Mrs. Bradshaw tried to ignore the little girl's rude comment. Her hesitant smile stayed fixed on her round face. Jack was certain she had taken offense by Abby's remark, but the plump woman said nothing before she slowly walked away from them, leaving them to their new little room. As soon as the woman was out of range, Jack angrily took her little sister by the shoulder and led her inside the room, closing the door behind them.
"Abigail Barbara!" Jack growled, using her sister's full name. "We actually get a place to stay for the first time in two weeks and ya complain?"
Abby folded her little arms. "I'm sorry, but ya gotta admit, this hotel is as active as a dead longhorn. Jack, the store I went to was no different. Some clumsy bloke was behind the counter and all his supplies were gone except what I got. Here, I got five cents still from what ya gave me."
She handed her big sister a nickel. Jack took it with a raised brow. The town did not seem that bad in her eyes. This was a mining town that only existed for the nearby stream that gave the town its name and the mine that will eventually run out of metal. Perhaps it was only so dead because of the miners being down underground? Jack was a skeptic, a true skeptic of most people, but she refused to make conclusions so quickly.
"We gonna have to wait 'til the evenin' to see how true this town really is. I still wonder about Miss Garner. Ya get some sleep if ya can. We traveled long and hard last night. It'll be good for ya to rest without the fear of desert wolves gettin' ya pretty little hide."
Jack, with a warm smile on her dry lips, rubbed her hand roughly through the giggling girl's crimson hair. She then stretched, putting her arms over her head and leaning backwards. Her body needed rest as well. Riding a horse across the badlands was a tiring endeavor. Since they had been without a proper bed for half a month, her bones told her to sleep, her muscles told her to sit still, but her mind was the true force behind her tireless attitude. When she wanted to move, there was nothing that would prevent her from doing so.
Leaving her sister in the room, she walked down the steps to see Mrs. Bradshaw taking care of some clothes out behind the building. The blonde woman put on her stetson hat and with her hands on her belt's buckle, she made her way through the backdoor and approached the working hostess.
"Need somethin' Miss Jack?" Mrs. Bradshaw asked when she saw the woman.
"Not something ya can do with ya hands, Mrs. Bradshaw," Jack said with her eyes squinted under the sun. "I've been askin' some of the folk in the tavern 'bout this, so I'd like ya input too. Have ya seen any strangers with more horses than men goin' round here?"
Mrs. Bradshaw raised a brow at the strange question. "Why, not any of the sort. We don't get many folk around here anyway. The last person to come and stay was our dear preacher, Miss Sabrina Garner."
"About Miss Garner, how is her...uh...sermons?" Jack asked and reached in her pocket for a cigarette, only to remember that she had none to smoke.
"Why she is the best preacher I've ever heard," Mrs. Bradshaw suddenly beamed as if she was speaking of her proud daughter. "We were a mighty depressed lot before she arrived from Heavenshire. She is so nice and caring. She helped our Sundays become rejuvenating."
"How so?"
"Well, beyond her sermons of hope and bliss, she's been so nice to everyone here. Old withered men have finally smiled again and the slumped women move with purpose. Hell, even Mr. Dickson's showgirls put effort in their performances now. I'll say, if it wasn't for Miss Garner, we'd move on from Broadbrook. There was nothin' here but sadness."
"Is Miss Garner gonna preach any time before Sunday morning?"
"Why yes! It's Friday, ain't it? Well, she loves to do a little night sermon for anyone who'd be willing to show up, which is mos' of us. We'd love ya to join us. Perhaps you'd like it so much, you'd be willing to make ya residence here. We could use a strong wrangler woman like you. Most women in the badlands would die before stepping into some blue jeans, but you seemed to have passed that a long while ago."
Jack chuckled at Mrs. Bradshaw's last statement. "Well, most likely not. My sis an' I aren't ones to hang around a town for too long. We jus' go 'bout our business. Nothin' more."
Mrs. Bradshaw gave Jack a long look right then. Her smile was still there, but it seemed like it was not supposed to be there. Jack was a bit unnerved by it all. It wasn't right. Not at all. Jack, not knowing what else to do, tipped her hat at the hostess before returning to the safety of the hotel. She glanced back to see if the woman still watched her. She did.
"Huh, sometimes I jus' don't get people..." she grunted.
~*~
When evening came, Jack brought Abby to the front of the chapel, where the humble residents were walking in in single file, as the doors were only wide enough for one average person or two small people. It seemed the whole town was there, including David Dickson, who was flanked by two women. Jack assumed the two were his showgirls, but they dared not wear their tavern attire to the town's holiest place.
Jack leaned on a fence post with Abby sitting playfully on the wooden fence itself. Jack wanted to see every person that entered the chapel. She wanted to make sure she spotted every face under the setting sun. Of course, Miss Garner was already inside long before the line started, thus Jack did not see her. However, she saw everyone else she had seen all day, including Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw and Pat Franklin, a overly friendly miner that she had met a couple of hours ago. Beside his curly head was Nightingale Grimes, a white-haired woman that worked in the mines with the men. Jack though she was a boy when she first saw her, but the shape of the torso and the way she moved proved that she was just a hard labor woman.
"What ya think, Abby?" Jack softly asked her sister without looking at her.
Abby stroked her chin. "I dunno. I'm sure it'll be a good sermon. I think Miss Garner knows what she's doing."
"Yup, that's what I'm afraid of as well," Jack huffed. "Come alon', we should get inside."
Jack helped her little sister down from the fence and they walked together to the chapel's entrance. The last of the people waiting in line had entered and were now taking their seats on the hard pews. The chapel was lit by kerosene lamps that were between the several plain windows. It was a nice chapel, clean and sturdy, but Jack, who was used to being in a holy structure, still was unnerved.
Miss Garner was on a platform at the other end, smiling and waving at each person who joined to listen to her little sermon. She was looking as beautiful as ever, her hair was no longer under a hat, as she was in a chapel, and it was neatly done in a bun that allowed the colors of her hair to swirl about nicely. Her bright, cheerful eyes met everyone there, including Jack and Abby.
"I see our guests have joined us," she waved at them. "I am honored."
The heads of the Broadbrook people turned to see them. Abby was a bit overwhelmed by the sudden attention of the miners and hid behind her sister, who said nothing as she simply took her stetson off. She gave a small, insignificant smile before taking a seat in the pew nearest the door.
"Well," Miss Garner began, "I have a bit to speak about tonight. I have been noticing some peculiar behavior among the miners. Now, I am not going to name all names, but I shall name one. This person has disappointed me as what I preached about last week, he has openly and perhaps even purposely, done the opposite. Now, what I always tell you good folk of Broadbrook is to be kind and considerate to one another, so if someone does the opposite, is that a good thing?"
The chapel's audience all calmly shook their heads in response, making Miss Garner smile. Jack was instantly put on edge by the people. She had been in churches where the preacher would rile up the crowd and receives either boos or cheers, but here, they acted almost half-awake. She had never been in such a calm environment with so many people present.
"Yes, that's what I thought," Garner's cheerful voice hinted malevolent intent.
She took a step off the platform, her hands behind her back and her chin slightly raised. The crowd shifted their ways towards her, but seemed hesitant to actually turn their heads. Down the middle aisle she went, looking directly at every person she passed. Every single Broadbrook resident knew when her purple eyes were upon them, reacting with startled twitches as if a stranger prodded their backs with a hot spike.
She had walked by most of the rows before planting her shoes in the dusty wooden floor. Without moving the rest of her body, her neck turned her head directly to her left and her eyes went directly to one particular man, who refused to return the look. She stood there, as if waiting for him to make a move, which he did not.
"Mr. Franklin..." she spoke softly almost like a question.
The man in question did not answer.
"Mr. Franklin," she spoke a little louder.
Pat Franklin finally glanced her way. His eyes met hers and what courage he had left was gone. She brought one finger up, coaxing him from his seat as if he was a little boy. The action was not threatening in the slightest, but to the people of the chapel, it seemed the equivalent of the devil taking your soul right from your still corpse. A collective gasp that only could be heard if one was paying attention, floating softly across the wooden pews.
"Please rise, Mr. Franklin. You are only delaying the service," Garner pleaded politely.
Franklin stood up, his sweaty hat being wrung in his calloused hands. The two people between him and the preacher brought their legs close, trying to be as small as possible to allow the man to escape from the confines of pew row. Without daring to look up, he shifted down the pew sideways until he was in the middle aisle, right in front of the now beaming Miss Garner.
"Come along, Mr. Franklin, right to the front if you will," she told the man.
She and Franklin went up the aisle to the front. By this time, Jack had sat upright in her pew seat, watching intently at the unfolding events. Her little sister huddled close to her. Abby's heart was beating loud enough for Jack to feel every thump. Jack gave a short glance at her sister, seeing if she was alright, and then silently gazed back at the preacher and her reluctant companion.
"Mr. Franklin has something to tell us," Miss Garner spoke as if he was about to be congratulated. "Don't you?"
Franklin swallowed. The people of the chapel gazed at him with soulless interest, as if they were merely trained to watch movement. Their eyes followed Miss Garner's right hand as she placed it almost lovingly on Franklin's shoulder. When she made contact with him, he shuddered in fear.
"I-I" he stuttered. "I may have-"
"May have what, Mr. Franklin? Please, the people need to hear. Speak a bit louder," Miss Garner encouraged.
He ran a hand through his blue hair, the other hand still clutching his hat tightly. "I may have said something along the lines that we should head out from Broadbrook. At least...At least some of us."
"Ah, so the truth comes out," Miss Garner sighed. "You see, good people of Broadbrook, this man's misguided ideas can lead to unwanted strife within this lovely town. He thinks we can simply leave this town. He dares to think that other people in the other towns will accept him. Well, like I tell you all every Sunday, this is not the case."
"What the Hell is wrong with what he said?" Jack asked herself under her breath.
"Because of Mr. Franklin's dangerous thoughts," Miss Garner continued, "I feel it necessary, oh so necessary, to remind you that you can't leave Broadbrook." She walked up to her podium and left Franklin standing where he was. "You all know of the mission we have before us. We are here in Broadbrook to do more than just simple mining, we are here to start a community of equality and righteousness. Our mission is to make Broadbrook the starting point of a new era of love and peace in the badlands," she paused, using the silence to emphasize her point. "However, we can only do this if we all are on the same, exact page. Ever since I got here, we've been training to become a haven for wanderers and a home to the lost. It's been mighty successful so far and we will not slow down now. Not at all."
Jack expected some sort of applause from the crowd, but Garner did not even receive a hint of acknowledgement. They simply listened and stared like statues. Jack now sunk back in her seat, unwilling to give the preacher too much of her attention.
"Jack," Abby whispered in her ear, "can we go? This is gettin' mighty uncomfortable, ya know?"
"Not yet," Jack answered. "I feel like this sermon is pretty darn important to list'n to."
Miss Garner kept speaking to the silent chapel. "I must challenge you, all of you, to keep strong in our commitment. Broadbrook's success relies on it. You are not allowed to leave here. You are not allowed to think that you are more special than the person sitting next to you. We are all the same in equality under the Lord."
"This don't sound like how they preached back in Appleloosa," Abby gulped and her arms clutched around her sister's wrist.
"Any thought of inequality can lead to conflict within Broadbrook. We all know this. That is why I, your humble preacher, must stand up here tonight and reinstate order and discipline. Mr. Franklin has done wrong in Broadbrook today. We as a community cannot simple ignore his wrongdoing. So I, with your help, will escort Mr. Franklin into the mines. For his transgression, he must be sent away to be in the mines all night," Miss Garner acted as if the action was almost unbearable for her.
"Oh please, Miss Garner!" Franklin begged. "Not the mines! There's beasts down there at night! They'll kill me!"
The man began to cry in his anguish. As he fell to his knees before her, Miss Garner lovingly placed her hand on his shoulder, almost seeming merciful. Her face full of pain and regret. The acting seemed genuine, but Jack rubbed her chin with skepticism.
"Mr. Franklin, I am sorry for what we are about to do, but this is equality. To simply have you escape discipline through begging would be unfair to those who have spent their nights in the mines for similar thought crimes. You must go through this. We'll pray for your redemption and perhaps survival," she told him with the softness of an angel.
Two men walked up from their seats and took Franklin roughly by the arms. The preacher kept her eyes shut and her hands in a praying position for the entire time until Franklin was completely dragged out of the chapel and supposedly to the dark mines.
Jack and Abby's eyes followed the poor man as he was dragged passed them. Once he had passed, Jack had seen enough. An audible groan left from the bottom of her throat. Without looking at her little sister, she spoke in a low whisper that Abby had a hard time hearing.
"She ain't a preacher," Jack said. "She's a tyrant."
Miss Garner kept speaking on, and the crowd kept listening. Jack stood up and adjusted her belt of rounds. She gestured for Abby to get up as well. As the two sisters began to leave the chapel, Garner's voice stopped and the sound of heads turning could be heard from all around.
"Miss Jack," Miss Garner called out sweetly. "Is there a problem?"
"No, Ma'am," Jack forced a smile back her way. "We're just deciding to retire early this night. I hope it ain't some 'thought crime' to do so? I would never ever wish to violate the moral laws of this here town."
"I do not appreciate the tone of your voice, Miss Jack," Garner finally frowned, "but do as you will. You have the privilege of being our guest in Broadbrook. To expect you to conform to our ways so quickly would be illogical," she chuckled at the last line as if it was a playful joke.
"Yeah..." Jack muttered and led Abby out of the chapel.
They walked in silence until they reached the front of the hotel. When Jack felt that no one was watching, she went on one knee to be eye level with her sister. Abby was still quite disturbed by what she had just witnessed, but being in her sister's presence was relieving.
"Now don't let what ya just saw bother ya, Abby," Jack reassured her. "I think I'm startin' to feel why we are here. I don't think it's some mighty coincidence we found some dead bodies just a night's ride from here. Garner ain't a preacher I feel."
"Jack, I know what ya suggestin'!" Abby harshly whispered as she clutched her red braid of hair. "These are crazy folk, but I don't see 'em as killers! Why would they kill anyone?"
"The Franklin man just said monsters reside in the mines," Jack mentioned.
"Yeah, I may be young, but even I know a long-tale when I see one. That sounds like the folk stories we'd hear in Appleloosa. What makes ya think any of his whinin' was real? What proof do we have that Garner is some sort of liar or killer?"
At this, Jack looked away, thinking about how to answer the important question. "Well, I guess it ain't right to come to conclusions without a proper investigation. We still got the hotel room 'til Sunday, so how 'bout we spend tomorrow to see what this town really is about?"
"Guess we could," Abby shrugged. "I just hope ya won't cause trouble."
Jack chuckled. "Me? Naw, I won't cause trouble."
"Promise?" Abby looked hopeful.
"I don't make promises I can't keep," Jack laughed. "Now let's get to bed and plan out tomorrow."
~*~