CHAPTER 88 PART 3 POULTICE AND POULTRY

The Show Down

"How bad do you feel?"

Elizabeth put her hand on Jack's forehead while he sat on the edge of the unmade hotel bed.

He was normally strong and self-sufficient. A man who didn't care to be pampered. A man who prided himself on being able to live the tough rugged life of a Mountie. He could handle bear attacks, riding horses for days, and sleeping in a tent in all kinds of weather. But he couldn't deny that when he was sick, he appreciated nothing more than being coddled by Elizabeth.

"No fever. But you sound congested," she quickly assessed him. She moved her hand away but remained standing in front of him.

"I feel congested. Weak. Tired. My body aches. I can't stop sneezing. My eyes are watery."

"You've looked better."

"I don't want to get you sick. Or Jacklyn."

"I can have you wear a bandana over your mouth and nose," Elizabeth teased.

"She'll think I'm an outlaw."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I think she'll know you're her daddy, and I can't leave her out in the hallway forever."

Elizabeth looked around the room. It was nice. She had already seen the large bed with its fluffy pillows and soft-looking comforter, but now she noticed the other furnishings. She wondered how expensive the room had been for one night.

"I bought our train tickets already," a sniffly Jack noted. "If I can just sleep a few more hours, I'll be better when we travel and visit your family."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Jack affectionately put a hand on her waist which had started showing the signs of her pregnancy. His bleary eyes looked up at her face. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'm sorry about this whole mess."

"You're forgiven," she replied with a smile. She ran a hand through his thick brown hair and looked down into his handsome but sick face which somehow managed to look flushed and pale at the same time.

Elizabeth turned towards the door when she heard the knocking. She wondered if it was Delilah coming back for a second round.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I have to get back to work," the housekeeper explained when Elizabeth opened the door and moved out of the way for the woman to push the buggy with Jacklyn into the room. The wheels moved quietly over the carpeting and Jacklyn babbled upon seeing Elizabeth. "And your little girl's woken up."

"Thank you so much."

Elizabeth reached into her handbag, and retrieved a quarter which she gave to the woman.

"There's no need, ma'am", the woman said but she gratefully pocketed the change.

"I hope everything worked out for you," the hotel employee added hesitantly as she looked at Jack, who glanced in her direction. His nose and eyes were slightly pink. She had seen the look plenty of times before, on men who had stumbled to their hotel rooms after a night of drinking and partying too much.

"Just fine," Elizabeth replied with a smile. "I just need to go down to the front desk and see about getting a room."

The housekeeper gave Jack a look of disgust. She wondered what kind of man makes his wife take a separate room at a hotel just so he can entertain another woman.

"Dadee. Dadee," Jacklyn exclaimed happily from her position sitting up in the buggy when she spied Jack across the room.

"I'm not going near her," Jack gruffly told Elizabeth with a nod toward his daughter. "Take her with you."

The housekeeper muttered sympathetically to Elizabeth, "Not much of a doting father, is he, eh?"

"He doesn't want to give her anything," Elizabeth explained as she moved to pick up Jacklyn.

"He don't need to give her anything. She's just a baby," the housekeeper muttered at the selfishness of the man sitting lazily on the bed who had made no effort to greet his daughter.

"He's sick and tired," Elizabeth noted when she saw the housekeeper critically look at Jack. "He's had a busy past few days with a woman working on the railroad."

"A floozy," Jack piped up and then immediately wished he hadn't taken the effort. He kept his feet on the floor, but flopped backwards onto the mattress. "She wasn't worth the money."

"Charity, Jack," Elizabeth reminded him simply.

The housekeeper had heard many things in her years working at the hotel, but she had never heard a wife telling her husband to be charitable when criticizing a prostitute. This guest was certainly more accepting than the housekeeper would have been in the situation.

"You're a good Christian woman," she quietly told Elizabeth.

"It wasn't me," Elizabeth clarified as she considered the significant amount of money which Delilah was donating to the Mounties in exchange for Jack's service.

"Nope. My wife barely has two dollars to her name," Jack mumbled when he thought about Elizabeth's purse and wondered how they were going to pay for the room.

"Money ain't everything," the astonished housekeeper said in defense of Elizabeth, who was no longer paying attention to the conversation but was busy taking off the small girl's coat.

"Tell that to the hotel when it wants to get paid," Jack muttered.

The housekeeper was about to reply when she noticed the poultice smell in the room.

She crinkled her nose in mild disgust. "Your daughter might need her nappy changed. Do you have one?"

"That's not a nappy. It's my wife," a weary, and somewhat delirious, Jack spoke up. "She was raised with chickens and goats and stuff."

The housekeeper turned her back to Jack and spoke conspiratorially to Elizabeth. "It ain't none of my business, ma'am, but you don't need to stay with him."

When the housekeeper – whom Elizabeth learned was named Mrs. Putzen - had explained that the hotel was at full occupancy, Elizabeth had asked her to please clean their room, and change the sheets, which smelled of roses on one side of the bed, and sweaty man on the other.

With Jack slumped in a chair, Jacklyn entertaining herself with a rattle, a wooden spoon, Jack's hat, and three wooden blocks, and the housekeeper changing the bed linens, Elizabeth had gone to the hotel lobby to see about staying in the room until their train departed.

"Twelve dollars, Mrs. Thornton."

"Twelve dollars?!" a flabbergasted Elizabeth repeated when the manager told her how much she owed.

"Yes, ma'am. It's six dollars a night. It was six dollars for last night and then if you don't check out by eleven o'clock this morning, we have to charge you for another night. That's another six dollars. So, it comes to a total of twelve dollars, without tax. As I explained to you, Miss. Carneigan said that Mr. Thornton would be paying for his own room for last night."

We don't have twelve dollars, Elizabeth thought as she tried to remain calm and think of a solution. The couple had never had the need to carry that much cash on them in Hope Valley, and Jack hadn't expected any expenses other than the railroad tickets to Aberdeen, which had already purchased, and an extra dollar or two for meals.

She knew that Jack could go to the bank and have money wired but they were trying to live within their means. Besides, Jack would have to go over and get the money wired himself since it was his account. She suspected he had fallen back asleep the minute she had left him upstairs.

I knew this hotel was fancy, but twelve dollars!

"Is there a problem, Ma'am?"

"No. No problem," Elizabeth answered hesitantly when the manager spoke, breaking her out of her thoughts. "I just wasn't expecting it to be so much."

"That's our standard rate."

"I don't suppose you calculated it wrong?" she suggested doubtfully.

"No, ma'am. Six plus six is twelve." A line formed in his forehead as he critically peered over his spectacles at her. "Would you like to pay now or at check-out?"

"You know, why don't you give me a moment to think about that, and I'll get back to you."

Elizabeth turned away from the reception desk, and sighed deeply. She hesitated about going back to the room which they couldn't afford and telling Jack that they were going to be kicked out in two hours. She wondered how he'd feel about wearing the smelly poultice tied to his chest and hidden under his tee-shirt as they wandered the streets for hours.

Too bad he can't fit in the buggy, she thought ruefully. I could push him around and carry Jacklyn.

Ten minutes later, and two blocks from the hotel, Elizabeth looked up at the large letters engraved in concrete above the doorway of the stately brick building.

Royal Bank of Canada

It was certainly more impressive than the small bank in Hope Valley.

A security guard, in a uniform and with a weapon on his side, watched her walk into the marble-floored lobby, and then returned his gaze to the revolving entrance door. Smartly dressed bank customers walked past Elizabeth as they went about their business, depositing money, exchanging money, or looking at valuables in their security deposit boxes.

Elizabeth approached the long wood counter with brass bars at the back of the building and waited in line for the next available teller.

The bank teller turned out to be no more helpful than the hotel manager had been. Elizabeth didn't have Jack's bank book, she had never been to this bank before, and it wasn't even the same banking company which held their account.

"Your husband will need to sign for the account, ma'am, if you want to have the money wired," the man behind the counter explained again.

"I know that's normally the case, but he's not feeling well. Can't you make an exception?"

"Allow a woman I've never seen before to come into our bank and take money from a man's account? No."

Elizabeth refused to back down. "But if you wire his bank, I'm sure they'll tell you that it's okay. I'm his wife."

"You've said that three times, but as I've explained to you, your word is not good enough. Despite your assurances that you're an honest person and I should simply trust you."

"But everyone knows me in Hope Valley –"

"And as I've explained," the man interrupted. "I've never heard of Hope Valley."

"It used to be called Coal Valley", Elizabeth offered helpfully. "Some people may still know it by that name. I even call it that sometime," she added in a friendly tone.

The man gave her a look of tired exasperation.

"If you get a notarized letter of permission from your husband, I can help you."

Elizabeth stomped her foot and her voice quickly went from friendly to irritation. "If he could go to a notary, he could have come to the bank with me. I told you, he's not feeling well!"

The man raised his eyebrows at her. "He's not feeling well, and you want to take money from his account?"

"You don't have to make it sound so sinister!" Elizabeth angrily snapped back at him.

Looking over Elizabeth's shoulder, the teller noticed the line of patrons which had formed behind her.

"Do you have a copy of your marriage license with you?" he asked in resignation.

"No. Of course not. Who carries a copy of their marriage license with them?"

"A woman who wants to get into her husband's bank account," he replied rudely.

"But, it's OUR money. He won't mind! I have to pay for his hotel room for last night because the woman who was supposed to pay for it changed her mind when I caught them in bed together!"

The man rolled his eyes. "Ma'am, I can't help you. I think you have more problems than needing money", he told her and then looked to the tall man impatiently standing behind her. "Next please."

Elizabeth's face tensed in anger. "We need the money! For goodness sakes, if my husband has to come over here wearing a bandana and looking like an outlaw, then he will!"

Elizabeth shook her head in bewilderment as the security guard strong-armed her past the stunned patrons who were all staring at her, and forcibly escorted her out of the bank building.

"That wasn't what I meant!" she wailed as the burly man practically tossed her to the pavement after the revolving door had deposited them outside.

"And stay away. Next time you threaten a bank employee, I'm calling the police."

"I didn't mean that my husband would rob the place! That wasn't what I meant!"

An irritable Elizabeth had calmed down somewhat by the time she walked through the hotel lobby and was now just mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. Her feet hurt and her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten breakfast yet. It has been an exceedingly long morning.

Passing the restaurant, she glanced through the doorway and saw the object of her ire sitting at a table.

The idea came to her so quickly that she wondered that she hadn't thought of it earlier.

"We need to talk."

Delilah, set down her fork, and stared at Elizabeth before finally nodding to the chair opposite her. Elizabeth took the nod as an invitation to sit down. She glared at the woman who looked totally unconcerned over their encounter just forty minutes earlier.

Does she do this on a weekly basis?! Like most women do laundry?! Elizabeth thought in bewilderment, and then realized that the dining room chair was quite comfortable. She ran her hand along the seat fabric. Nice quality.

"You said we need to talk, I assumed that meant you had something to say," Delilah told her. "Because quite frankly, I have nothing I need to say. I was having a lovely breakfast by myself."

"You tried to seduce my husband."

"I did," Delilah admitted without the slightest remorse. "So what? There's no harm in trying."

"You're disgusting."

"Actually, I'm a modern woman who knows what I want."

"What you wanted was my husband," Elizabeth shot back critically. "And he's off-limits."

"He's good looking, has a good job, is well-mannered, is interesting. Quite sexy in a cowboy hat or in his uniform. And when he's not in uniform."

"Off-limits," Elizabeth repeated coldly.

"Well now, I didn't know that until I tried," Delilah noted sweetly.

Delilah looked to her side and motioned for a nearby waiter to pour her some more tea.

Elizabeth paused while the man approached the table and re-filled Delilah's cup with steaming liquid while was the color of brown sugar crystals, and then turned over the upside-down cup in front of Elizabeth and filled it precisely three quarters of the way to the rim, allowing her room if she wanted to add cream. The uniformed employee used a pair of silver tongs to add a lemon slice to Elizabeth's saucer, and patiently stood there until Elizabeth noticed that he was waiting for her to take a sip.

She took a small polite taste, and then another.

Darn, that's good tea. This is a nice hotel!

"I have honey ma'am if you'd like some," he offered as he placed a small crystal jar on the table in front of her.

I love honey!

"Oh yes! Thank you," Elizabeth said as she momentarily forgot that she was supposed to be getting her table companion to be remorseful.

Elizabeth automatically took the cloth napkin which was in front of her, and laid it on her lap. With the silver honey-dipper she drizzled the thick amber liquid into her tea.

"Today's special is Eggs Benedict," the man offered. "We also have a large selection of pastries made by our house baker, honey-baked ham, and oatmeal. Would you like to see a menu?"

I am hungry, Elizabeth conceded.

And the food here looks delicious. And the baby needs to eat, too . . . . No! First put Delilah in her place. Eat later.

"No. No thank you," Elizabeth said in an attempt at determined confidence.

A smug Delilah spoke up. "Jack and I had dinner here last night."

Elizabeth waited for the man to move away before continuing her conversation. "My husband would never want you," she replied bitterly.

"So my attempt in seduction didn't work. There's a first time for everything. Did you come here to gloat?"

"I don't need to gloat."

"Then what did you come here for? I highly doubt it was to have eggs and sausage with me."

"We're not going to check out until later this afternoon. I want you to pay for my husband's room for last night. We'll manage today's cost, but you need to pay for last night."

"Why should I?" Delilah retorted. "His job escorting me to the railroads was done. He obviously didn't want my company. He can pay for his own room."

"Because you had him booked in one of the most expensive rooms in this hotel. Much more than he would normally pay for a hotel room. Normally, he wouldn't even stay at a hotel. He'd stay at a boarding house or camp outside."

When the other woman just shrugged and then put a forkful of pale-yellow egg into her mouth, Elizabeth continued.

"The agreement you made with his superiors was that you would make a size-able donation to the Widows and Orphans fund and that you would pay his expenses during his time escorting you. I expect you to fulfill the agreement."

"Maybe I've changed my mind," Delilah responded with an air of superiority.

"Change it back."

"Why should I?" she scoffed. "Your husband comes from money. He can pay for his own room."

"He shouldn't have to. That wasn't the agreement."

"Oh, that's right. You're trying that whole admirable thing of living off his Mountie wages and your simple teacher's wages. He mentioned something about that when we were traveling," Delilah remarked unsympathetically. "Admirable but not too practical if you're stuck in a town and need to pay for a hotel."

"You know that my husband is sick. I want him to rest the remainder of the day until our train leaves this evening."

"I don't see how that has anything to do with me," Delilah interrupted. "If he wants to rest, let him rest. Goodness knows, your tedious bucolic life is probably boring enough that he could sleep right through your visit."

Elizabeth contained the growl that was forming in her throat and remember that she was a lady. A somewhat middle-class lady, but a lady none-the-less.

"I'm not going to have him sleeping on a bench at the depot or in the park. We'll pay for today's room charges. You'll pay last night's."

"And if I won't?"

"Then I will have to handle things."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" the woman challenged with a chuckle. She turned her attention to the melon slice on her plate and pierced it with the silver tines of her fork.

"Have you ever heard of Lulu Nestor? The journalist?" Elizabeth asked.

"I have."

Elizabeth noticed a slight look of worry in the other woman's eyes as she looked up from her plate.

"Then you know that she enjoys writing scandalous pieces for whatever magazine or newspaper will pay the highest price. Her specialty is stories on the wealthy. "

"And you think she'd listen to you?"

"I do." Elizabeth took a sip of her tea and stared knowingly at her enemy.

Delilah paused as she assessed Elizabeth, and then decided that she wasn't a threat.

"If you drag my name into anything sordid, you'll have to drag in your husband's too. And my guess, is that Jack wouldn't want that. And neither would you. Lulu can be quite vicious in her writing."

She picked up her fork and took another small bite before continuing. "So, I think I've won this round, Elizabeth dear. I made a pass at your husband, and it didn't work out," she said with a shrug. "That's the end of the matter. Pay for your own room."

Elizabeth didn't look the least bit upset by Delilah's refusal as she replied in pleasant voice. "Lulu and I have been professional acquaintances for some time now. While you have looked down on my hobby of writing, Lulu has always appreciated my writing, and we've been published in the same magazines. She's also social acquaintances with Jack's mother, Charlotte Thornton, and she thinks extremely highly of Jack. One word from me about you crawling into bed with him when he was passed out with a cold, and she'll be more than excited to write an article. Jack will be the gentleman, and you'll be the trash."

"She wouldn't", Delilah declared with an attempt at bravado.

"She most definitely would. I can see the headlines now. Delilah Carneigan of the Montreal Carneigans pitifully throws herself at married man but he wants nothing to do with her. . . . Desperate Delilah ignored by Married Mountie. . . . Prominent Railroad Family's daughter tries to derail stable marriage but it stays on track. . . . I may even help her write the article. From an insider's viewpoint."

Elizabeth leaned forward and whispered loudly across the table. "There are endless possible ways to write this story putting Jack in the best light and making you look like a tramp. Train Tramp. Desperate Depot Daughter."

"You wouldn't dare," Delilah hissed back.

"Try me."

Delilah glared at Elizabeth. Trying to decide if the small-town school teacher was bluffing.

Elizabeth, an experienced poker player, didn't blink.

"You're blackmailing me," Delilah said coldly.

"I prefer to think that I'm a modern woman who knows what I want. Now march your long blond hair over to the reception desk and pay for the room."

Delilah scowled and stood up from the table. Opening her small purse, she pulled out a bill and lay it on the table to pay for her breakfast. "I suppose you'll want to come to make sure I do it," she said irritably.

"Forgive me if I don't trust you. But you did crawl into my unconscious husband's bed. That's not exactly something I can easily overlook. It's not like you borrowed a cup of sugar and didn't return the cup."

The two women made their way out of the restaurant. Delilah, dressed impeccably, had a hardened expression on her face and Elizabeth thought she saw a vein popping in the woman's pale white neck.

Elizabeth, dressed in her traveling clothes, had a relaxed pleased expression on her face.

Ooh, is that fruit and a pudding tart? she thought eagerly as she passed the dessert tray being wheeled across the room.

"Anything else?" Delilah asked curtly after she had requested the hotel manager to put the cost of Jack's room on her bill, and handed over the money.

"One more thing," Elizabeth told her.

"What?" the blond woman asked irritably. "I've paid for the room!"

"Jack and I haven't had breakfast yet. You'll pay for room service. For a full breakfast. With dessert."

Up Next: Chapter 89