Page 20 of Red Hawk's Woman

“Within hours?” Effie stared at the gentleman who called himself Sheriff Hopkins, the only law in this town. He was seated before her in his office, his booted feet propped up on his desk.

“This is a very small town, ma’am,” said Hopkins, whose mustache was so long it appeared as if he had no upper lip. “Who was the first person you told about your nightly visitor?”

“There were several people staying at the hotel, Sheriff, including my crew. All were awakened by the shots. And of course I had to make a report to the manager of the hotel. I believe he said his name was Mr. MacDermitt.” Effie swept her full, blue-striped silk dress in front of her as she advanced farther into the room. On her head was perched a little hat with a plume that hung down over her chignon in back. Because there was still a chill in the fresh Montana air, she wore a shapeless peplum over the dress. “But I only told him of it first thing this morning. There was no manager on duty last night.”

The sheriff raised his shoulders as if to say, Well, that explains it. Meanwhile he lit his pipe.

Effie exhaled, exasperated. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

Taking a few puffs on his pipe, Sheriff Hopkins extinguished the match then glanced up at her.

“Tell me, ma’am,” said the sheriff without answering her question. “Why is a pretty little gal like you here? All alone? And in a country that’s wild and unruly?”

“I wasn’t aware it was a crime to be here. And, for the record, I am not alone.”

“Now don’t go gettin’ all sassy with me. Just askin’.” The sheriff removed his boot-clad feet from the desk. “I’m tryin’ to understand the reason why some man would break into your room in the middle of the night.”

Effie shrugged.

“Jealous husband?”

“I’m not married.”

“Lover’s quarrel?”

“No.”

“Irate father?”

“I am over twenty-one.”

The sheriff drew a long puff on his pipe, set it to the side then slowly shifted his weight in the chair. At length he stood up, as if only now remembering his manners.

“Now, ma’am.” He skirted around the desktop. “I have to ask myself—and you—again, why is a pretty gal like you here? I know you said you was goin’ diggin’ in the mountains⁠—”

“I’m an archaeologist.”

“Yes, miss, I heard you the first time, but any digger I’ve ever heard tale of didn’t look like you—young, pretty, even if a trifle overdressed.”

Overdressed? Effie pressed her lips together before she said, “Then I expect your experience is very limited.”

Heaven forbid that the man should smile. Yet he did, and Effie was struck at once by the fact the sheriff did, indeed, have an upper lip.

“You’re sure a cheeky little thing.”

“And you’re not helping me, though I’m certain you mean to. Now, Sheriff Hopkins, what I really need to know is what is going to be done to discover who entered my room last night—and also where I might hire myself another guide.”

The sheriff took a step toward her. Effie backed up.

“’Fraid I won’t be able to assist you, ma’am, less’n you tell me what it is someone might be lookin’ for. And as far as a guide, you’ll just have to ask around town…but don’t expect much.”

“Don’t expect much? What does that mean?”

The sheriff backed up to lean against his desk. “It means that no one here wants to take on a job that’s jinxed.”

“Jinxed? Who said the job was jinxed?”

Sheriff Hopkins shook his head. “Too much bad luck. Someone breaks into your room in the middle of the night and shoots at you. Then your guide quits on you right sudden. What’s next? Shootin’ your guide?”