by Anna Schmidt
“Are you saying you’d rather not see me, Grace?”
“Not at all. But face facts, Nick. We are both frustrated by having so little time, not to mention privacy. I don’t want to argue with you. Do as you like.”
They were both overworked and on edge. The kisses and embraces they managed were rushed and had a sort of desperate quality to them that held none of the passion or sweetness they had shared before. Nick was constantly counting the weeks until she would be free of her obligation to the Harvey company, and she realized that irritated her. She would be giving up a great deal once her position came to an end—friendships, the pride she took in what she had accomplished, the promotions and money of her own, and the regular customers who requested her table and shared their news with her. And now that Jasper Perkins had robbed Nick of his land, where were they to live?
Jasper Perkins.
The mere thought of the man sent a shiver down her spine. He had made no further move since before Christmas, yet he continued to come to the dining room, continued to insist she serve him, continued to stare at her as if she were a piece of prime meat. She shuddered with disgust as she untied her apron and made her way through the kitchen. For the first time since Christmas, she had been given the supper shift off.
“Hey, Grace,” Jake called.
She paused and waited for him to come closer. He was carrying a folded piece of paper. “A note for Lily?” she guessed and smiled. It was so sweet the way Jake sent daily messages now that Miss K had decided Lily was far too ill to leave her bed.
“This one’s for you. A kid came by earlier and said Nick sent him. He wants you to meet up at ‘the usual place’ at six.”
She took the paper. “That’s not Nick’s handwriting,” she said.
“No. There was no note. I wrote down what the kid said in case I missed seeing you in person.” He grinned. “Sounds like Nick might have something special planned.” He handed her a small box tied with string. “The kid also brought this.”
She untied the string and smiled. The box was filled with chocolates. Suddenly, she felt lighter. They just needed to get through this. There were challenges in every marriage, and this busy time was theirs. She offered Jake a chocolate. He popped it whole into his mouth and grinned. “Peppermint,” he said as he headed back to work.
Upstairs, Grace told Lily and Emma the news, then took a long, hot bath, hoping it would revive her. She even considered borrowing a little of the rouge Lily kept hidden to give her pale face some color but decided no rouge would be able to withstand the kisses she and Nick would share. Somehow, he must have come up with an idea for making the cabin habitable so that they could have the whole evening together without freezing. As she soaked, the weariness that had stalked her for days eased. Back in the room, she dressed quickly.
“Take my coat,” Lily croaked. “It’s warmer.”
“And cover your head,” Emma instructed. “Can’t have you coming down with whatever we’ve got.”
She did as they suggested, hesitated at the door, and said, “I wish the two of you could—”
“No you don’t,” Lily said with a throaty laugh. “Besides, we plan to polish these off while you’re gone.” She held up the box of chocolates.
It was nearly dark when Grace hurried outside. She checked to be sure no one was around who might follow her or see her head down the path that led to the abandoned cabin. As she approached, a thin sliver of smoke rose from the chimney, and she imagined the fire Nick had built. He would have arrived early to make the small space as toasty as possible. She should have stopped in the kitchen and brought something for them to eat. Nick was always hungry after…
Her heart was hammering with both the exertion of breathing in the frigid air and excitement as she approached the door. She knocked, imagining Nick opening the door only wide enough for her to slip inside before wrapping her in his arms and kissing her with all the passion they’d shared on their wedding night.
The door remained closed, but not all the way. She smiled. So, he was playing a game, teasing her. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The door closed behind her with a firm click. She turned, still smiling.
“Well, at last,” Jasper Perkins said.
Grace gasped and instinctively pulled Lily’s coat closer. She was incapable of speaking. The banker pointed a pistol at her and waved it between her and the fire.
“I have done my best to see to your comfort, my dear, although I must say your cowboy has poor taste when it comes to his choice of accommodations for a lover’s tryst.” He leaned against an empty barrel that had once held nails. She realized he was slurring his words, and in the close confines of the cabin, she smelled liquor. “Please stand there by the fire where I can see you plainly and remove your clothing—slowly.”
“Mr. Perkins, you—”
He smirked. “The other option is for me to undress you myself.” He cocked an eyebrow and then chuckled. “You do have the most expressive features, my dear. I can already see that of the two options, you are going to choose the former.”
Somehow, she found her courage. “And what if I choose neither? What if I—”
She started for the door, but he blocked her way, pressing the gun against her stomach. “You have crossed me once too often, Grace. For the next hour, you will do exactly as I say. After that, we will each be on our way and never speak of this again.”
She had no doubt he believed this was realistic. The man was drunk—and quite possibly insane. He moved the muzzle of the gun to her cheek, pressing the cold metal hard against her bare skin. “I am not going to violate you, Grace,” he whispered. “You have already betrayed me on that front, have you not? What young couple comes to a hideaway as reclusive as this to share a few innocent kisses?”
The man was so vile that Grace thought she might be physically ill. “If you shoot me, how will you explain my death? Someone will hear.”
“No one will hear. Isn’t that why your cowboy chose this spot? So the two of you could cry out in your passion without fear of being discovered?”
Had he spied on them? The idea that Jasper Perkins might have been lurking outside the narrow window of the cabin watching them… “Nick and I are married,” she blurted. What did it matter if she lost her position now? Perhaps Miss Kaufmann would even understand that she’d been in a situation where her very life depended on revealing the truth.
“Married or not, Nick Hopkins has taken what I wanted—and what you agreed to give.”
Grace stumbled back, desperate to get as far away from this devil as the close confines of the cabin would allow. “If I remove my clothes, then are we done?”
“Ah, time now for bargaining.” He lowered the gun and placed it carefully on top of the nail keg with the barrel still pointed directly at her as she stood before the fireplace. “You would agree to that? To completely disrobing?”
“I might.” She was bargaining all right—for time to think how she might raise an alarm and escape.
“There are three pieces to my plan for you today, my sweet. First, you will undress. Next, I will open my trousers, and you will kneel before me. And finally, you will pleasure me without my needing to sully myself by entering your defiled body. And once I am satisfied, you may leave. I am an honorable man, Grace, and I have given you my word. Those are my terms, and they are not up for discussion.”
“But—”
The slap came seemingly from nowhere, and while she was still in a state of shock from the blow, he grabbed her hair and twisted it so that her face was less than an inch from his. “You are wasting my time, Grace. I suggest you get on with it.”
She fought against giving him the satisfaction of her crying out. He was pulling so hard, it felt as if he intended to pull her hair from her scalp. She licked her lips and tasted blood. And seeing no other option, she nodded.
He shove
d her back so hard that she had to grab onto the shelf above the fireplace to keep from falling into the fire itself. The heat was insufferable. He had built the fire with stacks of woods and kindling—a fire designed to roar for at least an hour or more before fading. But on the shelf, her fingers closed around something. It was the poker, a rusted and bent piece of metal Nick used to stir the embers.
Carefully, she eased her fingers away from the poker, praying it would not roll forward. She removed one glove and touched her lip, which was beginning to swell.
“You’ll have to say you fell,” Perkins said and then waved his hand at her. “The other glove, please, and then your coat.”
Lily’s coat.
She took it off and folded it carefully. “It belongs to a friend,” she said. “I don’t want to soil it.”
He reached over, grabbed the coat from her, and tossed it aside. “Stop stalling, Grace. This is going to happen. And in the end, you will have learned a new technique for lovemaking, one that I assure you will thrill and delight your cowboy.”
By the light of the fire, she could see that he was sweating profusely. His eyes were wild, his lips slick with drool. Never in her life had Grace seen anything more disgusting, and her disgust fueled her courage. She would survive this ordeal.
She opened the buttons of her shirtwaist slowly, watching him the entire time. “Jasper,” she whispered, trying to make her tone sweet and seductive. She could see he was fighting not to come prematurely. But the bulge in his trousers suggested he was losing that battle.
“That’s better,” he whispered. “Let me hear you say my name.”
“My skirt fastens in the back, and I can’t seem…” Deliberately, she turned her back to him, placing her hands on the shelf as she looked over one shoulder at him. “Help?”
He stumbled forward, eager to rid her of the clothing. Her fingers closed around the poker. Perkins muttered to himself as he wrestled clumsily with the hooks that held her skirt closed. He was squatting behind her. “Turn to the light,” he instructed.
She grasped the poker with both hands and spun away, striking out as she did. The weapon made a satisfying thud when it crashed into his back. She dropped the weapon and ran for the door, tripping on her unfastened skirt as she did.
With a growl, Perkins lunged for her, catching her by the ankle and dragging her back just as she managed to throw the door open. She screamed. The door slammed, and he hit her again. “You little whore,” he muttered as he laid his full weight over her, pinning her with his lower body. He ripped open her shirtwaist and camisole and grasped her bare breasts, squeezing them until she cried out in pain.
He grinned. “That’s right, Gracie, you holler. I promise you’ll be yelling for pure pleasure in a minute.” He pushed her skirt up and tore at her pantaloons, ripping them in his frenzy. When she fought back, he hit her again. Once he had her exposed, he stood and opened his trousers. “You have brought this on yourself, my dear.”
Grace closed her eyes. She was going to be raped. Her head rested very near the fire where she’d landed when he dragged her back. She spotted a small piece of kindling. She tried to roll toward it. He kicked her.
“Lie still,” he ordered.
When he knelt and then leaned close, ready to push into her, she no longer cared whether or not she suffered burns. She closed her hand around the charred and still burning stick and ground it into his face. When he screamed and leaped away, she tried to get up, but he was blocking her against the wall, so she shouted as loudly as she could.
“Help!” she yelled, hoping someone might be passing by and hear.
Blinded by pain, Perkins thrashed about and picked up the poker. He couldn’t see clearly, and Grace scrambled away. He swung the poker wildly, upsetting the balance that held the logs in the fireplace. Embers scattered across the cabin floor, igniting stray pieces of paper and straw and finally the blanket Grace and Nick had left there. In no time at all, the cabin filled with smoke.
Nick, she thought desperately. What was the point now of all the time they had wasted? And all because she stubbornly refused to give up her work. Her family would have found a way through their hard times. Hadn’t her mother told her to save her money and not send any more? What made her think she needed to be anyone’s savior?
She heard Perkins choking on the smoke and staggering about as she curled herself into a ball, hoping to evade him. Just when she had given up hope, someone tried to lift her. Perkins! The smoke made breathing difficult and shouting for help impossible. He was going to win. She fought with what strength she could muster. But it was no use. The hands that lifted her were strong and determined. Would this nightmare never end?
Chapter 13
When Nick arrived at the hotel, he had a plan. He would surprise Grace by simply walking into the dining room, knowing she would be there finishing her final chores. But it was Jake, not Grace, who glanced up and frowned at the sight of him.
“Nick, what are you doing here?”
“Well, I thought I was surprising Grace.”
“But you sent that kid with the message for her to meet you.”
“I didn’t send any kid or message.” Nick stared at Jake, alarm coursing through his veins. “Where’s Grace?”
“She ran outta here maybe twenty minutes ago on her way to meet you at the usual place. That’s what the kid said and what I told her. She was all excited and happy and—”
Nick was already headed for the kitchen. “Jake, get the sheriff and Aidan and meet me at that old abandoned cabin at the back of the property.” Thankfully, Jake didn’t ask questions, just nodded and started back through the kitchen to find Aidan. Nick was already running for the cabin when he heard shouts of “Fire!” and realized other people were also headed in the same direction.
He smelled the smoke before he saw the flames. Around him, there were calls for “Water!” and the general chaos of people rushing around, unsure of what to do. Pulling a bandana from his pocket, he covered his mouth and nose and ran inside the burning cabin. The place was full of thick, pungent smoke and smoldering debris, but he made out a figure standing near the fireplace—a man.
“Where’s Grace?” Nick tried to ask, but his words clogged in his throat.
The man stood there, frozen, and when Nick reached for him, he saw that it was Jasper Perkins, holding the poker Nick had so often used to stir the fire when he and Grace were there. Dodging the swipe of the poker, he bent low and felt around for anything that would mean he’d found her, praying she had somehow made it outside and was too dazed to let anyone know. His hand closed on fabric, then a foot that kicked out at him.
Grace!
She lay huddled in a corner, shielding herself with her arms. When he tried to gather her to his chest, she fought him and continued to flail and struggle as he lifted her. Disoriented, he searched for the door—the only exit.
“Come on,” he tried to say to Perkins, who was bent over the rough mantel of the fireplace, coughing as if his guts might actually come tumbling out.
A splash of water thrown through the doorway showed him the escape route. Grace had gone still, slumped against him, and he ran for the exit, emerging into the daylight just as one wall of the cabin collapsed, followed by a popping noise that sounded a lot like gunshots.
When the fresh air hit them, it seemed to revive Grace some, but she was still coughing and gasping for air. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she flailed about, pointing back toward the cabin. “J…J…Jas…”
Nick was tempted to let the man burn in the hell of his own making, but he knew Grace would find a way to blame herself. He turned her over to the care of Aidan and Frank and ran back inside.
The banker was now lying near the hearth. He wasn’t moving. Never in all his years had Nick wanted to kill a man more than he did this man right now. Holding his breath, he grabbed Perkins by his ankles an
d dragged him to the door and outside. As soon as Nick got him a safe distance from the danger of the fire, he let go and went to check on Grace.
That was when he realized that her clothes had been ripped and her lip was swollen and caked with soot and blood. Miss Kaufmann and Aidan were busy tending to her, pulling her clothing back into place, and wrapping her in Aidan’s coat. She mumbled incoherently, her eyes darting around without seeing anyone. Nick clenched his fists and strode back to where he’d left Perkins.
“He’s dead, Nick. He’s been shot.” Frank and the sheriff both glanced at Grace.
“She had nothin’ to do with this, if that’s what you’re thinkin’,” Nick said. “Whatever happened in that cabin today, Grace is the victim.”
“Still have to investigate what happened, Nick,” the sheriff said. “Doc Waters is on his way here now. Let’s let him check her out, and then we can decide what comes next. Meantime, I need to go give Mrs. Perkins the news.”
Nick watched him walk away. Cody Daniels was new in town. He’d taken over as sheriff after the man he’d succeeded was killed in a gunfight with train robbers. The West might be changing, but some things seemed like they never would.
“Nick?” Grace’s voice was weak, and she barely managed to call to him before she started coughing. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry—” Her voice broke as she collapsed against Aidan.
“We need to get this young lady inside,” the doctor said, addressing his comment to Aidan and Miss Kaufmann.
“I’ve got her,” Nick said, stepping between the doctor and Aidan to lift Grace into his arms. She curled into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “The hotel?” he asked.
“My office,” Doc Waters replied and led the way.
While the doctor examined Grace in a small room off his reception area, his wife brought tea for the three of them in the waiting room.
