Bay's Desire

by Shirleen Davies

  “Good morning, Suzette. Out for a stroll?”

  A genuine smile curved her lips seeing August coming toward her. “Hello, August. It’s such a nice day I decided to breathe the fresh air for a change.”

  He arched a brow. “Instead of the stale air in the kitchen?”

  Suzette lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Actually, yes. I’ve decided to either return to the kitchen and hire an assistant manager to watch the tables, or hire another cook. Either way is fine with me, but I can’t work with the man we brought in from back east.”

  August chuckled. “Are you looking for a suggestion?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let me handle getting rid of the chef. You take over as you did when we first opened the restaurant, and we’ll both look for someone to work the tables in your place.”

  Her lips parted in surprise. “That would be wonderful, August. I miss being in the kitchen and am growing tired of supervising the servers.”

  “And greeting all the customers,” he chuckled.

  She gave a quick shake of her head. “I do enjoy meeting the diners, getting to know them. It’s just…”

  Taking her elbow, August guided her to a bench outside the mercantile. “Bay has been particularly hard on you lately. For that, I’m sorry. I’d thought by now his anger would’ve lessened enough for you to explain. I fear I was wrong about his ability to forgive enough to learn the truth.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. Bay’s a proud man. He might never put aside his hatred for me, which means this state of tension could continue for years. I never should’ve accepted your offer when you traveled through St. Louis.”

  “Nonsense. You are the best part about the hotel and restaurant. Your skills at managing people, placating difficult guests, and offering a unique menu have made the establishment a place people all over the state travel to see. I cannot recall a better decision than the one I made bringing you to Conviction.”

  “But Bay’s your partner. It can’t be easy listening to him rage against me.”

  A bark of laughter passed through his lips. “Believe me, Bay isn’t one to rage. He quietly simmers, which is worse in some ways. Besides, he owns twenty percent. The MacLaren family and I each own forty percent, and Ewan and Ian are very pleased with your work.”

  Her features softened as she thought of the two elder MacLarens. “They have been quite complimentary.”

  “And I see no reason for that to change. What must change is Bay. I plan to have a talk with him as soon as I return from Sacramento.” Pulling out his pocket watch, August noted the time. “I must be getting to the stage station. If I miss it today, there won’t be another for two days.” Standing, he held out his hand to assist Suzette up. “Don’t worry. This will all work out for the best.” Leaning down, he kissed her cheek.

  “Thank you, August. I always feel better after we talk.”

  Squeezing her hand, he let go. “I’m at your disposal anytime, Suzette. And don’t forget. This is going to be all right. I’m absolutely certain of it.”

  She watched him continue down the boardwalk, wishing she held the same amount of optimism as August.

  Cursing, Bay slammed the newspaper down on his desk and stood. Pacing to the window, he looked out, massaging the back of his neck, letting out a stream of curses. He didn’t know who Harold Ivers, the editor of the Conviction Guardian, spoke with, but he intended to find out.

  For several years, he’d been able to work and live here with few knowing his previous occupation. He’d worked hard to put the gunslinger part of his life behind him, and thought he’d been successful. Until now. In Conviction, August, Jasper Hamm, Suzette, and the MacLarens were the only ones who knew about his past, and he trusted all of them to keep his secret.

  Bay stilled. Except possibly one. Suzette.

  She might’ve been persuaded to give up the information as a way to get back at him for riding out of St. Louis, leaving her and their disaster of a marriage behind. Bay had almost turned around when he reached Kansas City. A night of gambling and drinking cured his guilt, and by morning, he’d saddled Spartacus and continued west.

  Grabbing the paper, he tucked it inside his coat. August had taken the stage to Sacramento the day before. Otherwise, he might’ve asked his thoughts on the article, giving himself a chance to cool down before storming out to find Suzette. As it was, Bay let his anger take over.

  He checked the time on the gold pocket watch Suzette had given him on their wedding day. Bay should’ve gotten rid of it a long time ago, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to sell it.

  “Ten in the morning,” he mumbled, stepping outside. If he hurried, she’d still be at home. It took five minutes to navigate the already crowded boardwalk and streets before arriving at her house. Not allowing himself time to doubt his decision, he pounded on the front door and waited.

  Hearing the sound of shoes on the wooden floor, he didn’t wait for an invitation when Suzette drew the door open. The shock on her face might have been comical if he wasn’t so angry.

  She jumped aside rather than be shoved out of the way. “Bay. What in the world—”

  Before she could finish, he shoved the paper in her face. “Are you the one responsible for this?”

  Confusion crossed her face as she took the paper. “What do you want me to read?”

  “The part about the killer for hire living in Conviction. Did you speak with Ivers?”

  She read the article, shaking her head in disbelief. “No. I’d never speak to him about your past, Bay.”

  “Seems there are a lot of things you used to say you wouldn’t do. Are you certain talking to Ivers isn’t one of them?”

  Shoving the paper back at him, she lifted her chin, her voice as cold as his. “What possible reason would I have for exposing your past life?”

  He leaned closer. “To get back at me for abandoning you.”

  Throwing up her hands, she stomped from the entry into the kitchen, pulling down two cups. Without asking, she filled each with coffee, handing one to Bay. Taking a couple sips, a resolute gaze met his.

  “I knew why you left. Although I wished you would’ve at least granted me the time to hear what happened, I understood your reasons for leaving.”

  “I didn’t need to hear your version, Suzette. I walked in on you and the man in our bed.”

  She shook her head. “No. You walked in on Dave Calvan holding me next to the bed.”

  Nostrils flaring, he glared at her. “I know what I saw. What I don’t know is how long you’d been allowing…” His voice faded as he let the name sink in. “Dave Calvan?”

  “The man you sent to prison after you shot his brother.”

  Setting down the cup, he turned, pacing away. Rubbing a hand across his forehead, Bay whipped around. “It doesn’t excuse the fact I caught you with him.”

  Shoulders sagging, she placed her cup down. “You’ll always believe what you want about that night, Bay. Nothing I say will ever dissuade you from believing I cheated on you.” Slipping past him into the dining room, she stopped and turned around. “I still love you. Not once have I betrayed you. Unlike you, Bay, I took our vows seriously. There’s never been another man in my bed. You’ve always been the only one.” Expelling a weary breath, she lifted a defeated gaze to meet his. “I’m tired of the pain, feeling guilty for something I had no choice about.” She took a small step forward. “I know you want a divorce. I’m too tired to fight you any longer, seeing the hatred in your eyes whenever I’m close. I’ll be at your office in the morning to sign the papers. Perhaps then we can both find a little peace.”

  Chapter Two

  Cracking his eyes open, Bay dragged a hand down his face. He’d gone straight from Suzette’s house back to his own, intending to work, drinking most of the day and well into the night, letting her words roll over and over in his mind.

  “Not once have I betrayed you. Unlike you, Bay, I took our vows seriously.”
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br />   His head pounded from drowning himself in what was left of an old bottle of whiskey, then part of a second, a gift sent to his office. He sat up on a loud groan, his stomach cramping enough to double him over for a full minute.

  The morning sun already shown bright through the sheer curtain, making his eyes burn. Slowly swinging his legs off the bed, he stared at the floor, once again thinking of what Suzette said.

  She’d talked to him more yesterday than in all the times they’d seen each other since that night in St. Louis. Then again, unlike all the other occasions when they might have spoken, he hadn’t shunned her yesterday.

  “Not once have I betrayed you.”

  Until now, he’d never considered what he saw and what really happened weren’t the same.

  “But they had to be,” he muttered, pushing up to walk toward the wardrobe. Bay knew he couldn’t be wrong about what he saw right in front of him. Calvan’s hands rested on Suzette’s nearly nude body. And she hadn’t dared look at Bay, keeping her gaze averted.

  That part of the horrible night had always bothered him. He’d never seen her face. Not from the time he entered the room until he awoke several days later on a cot in the clinic, Suzette asleep in a chair next to him, squeezing his hand as if she never intended to let go.

  Instead of waiting for her to wake up, he’d slid his hand from hers and dressed before walking out of the clinic. He hadn’t seen her again until August hired her for their new hotel and restaurant.

  What if all I’d thought had been wrong?

  “No.” Bay ground out the word, more to clear his head than convince himself. He knew what he saw. Had never been more sure of anything in his life.

  Splashing water on his face and over his head, he grabbed a towel, scrubbing harder than needed to dry his wet skin.

  “Unlike you, Bay, I took our vows seriously.”

  This part he understood. He hadn’t been discreet about the women he’d brought to Conviction via steamboat or stagecoach. He’d made certain Suzette saw every one of the stunning beauties he took to supper at the restaurant before escorting them to his house.

  What Suzette didn’t know was not one ever graced his bed. As much as he wanted to shove her from his heart, he’d never been able to find a woman to take her place. Never wanted anyone else to share his bed or his life. It had always been Suzette. She burned in his soul as no other woman ever had, and Bay was afraid he’d die with her still possessing his heart.

  Even though she’d never believe it, he had taken their vows seriously. He also knew she hadn’t been with another man, at least not since arriving in Conviction. From what August learned about her life after Bay left St. Louis, she’d taken no other lovers.

  Tossing aside the towel, he dressed, a vague memory of something else Suzette said niggling at the back of his mind. Something about…

  “Ah hell.”

  The divorce papers.

  She planned to come to his office this morning to sign the papers. He’d wanted to finish this for months. Needed to put their marriage behind him and move on.

  Then why had he drunk himself into a stupor when he was finally getting what he wanted? And why wasn’t he hurrying to get to his office and review the papers?

  The truth tore through him as surely as an arrow to the chest. Bay wasn’t ready to let her go. Not after what she’d said yesterday and the doubt her words created.

  Making a hasty decision, he walked downstairs and out the back door to the corral. Spartacus lifted his head, making no sound as Bay approached. Fifteen minutes later, he rode out of the gate. He needed to clear his head, think through all Suzette had said, and stay far away from her while he did both.

  “Are you certain he isn’t in his office, Mr. Hamm?”

  Shaking his head, Jasper stood. “I’m sorry, Miss Gasnier—”

  “Mrs. Donahue.” Suzette cut him off in a soft voice. Inside this office, when speaking with Jasper and August, was the only time she allowed herself to be addressed as a married woman. Some days it gave her comfort. On others, it deepened the wide hole in her heart.

  “Of course, Mrs. Donahue. Bay hasn’t come in this morning. Are you certain he knew of the appointment?”

  “We met yesterday morning about, well…there was an article in the paper, and he came by to discuss it.”

  Jasper had been the legal secretary for August and Bay for over two years. They depended on him to be discreet, and he’d never wavered on his job.

  “Yes, I saw the article, Mrs. Donahue. Quite unfortunate. I’m certain Bay will speak to Harold Ivers and get it all straightened out. Possibly insist on a retraction. That may be where he went this morning.”

  Suzette had to concede Jasper might be right. Bay had been incensed at having his old life exposed in such a public way. A proud man who’d worked hard to build a new life without the stigma of being a hired gunslinger, or a wife he thought had betrayed him. At least Ivers hadn’t discovered anything about Dave Calvan or the way he and his men had nearly killed Bay before leaving St. Louis. If that had come out, she wondered what Bay would’ve done to the newspaper editor.

  “You’re probably right, Mr. Hamm. I’m certain Bay had other things on his mind this morning. Please let him know I came by. He can let me know another time for the meeting. Good day.”

  “Good day, Mrs. Donahue.” Jasper watched her leave, grimacing at the look on her face. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman with such lost and lonely eyes as his boss’s wife. A woman, Jasper knew, Bay wanted to cut from his life.

  It seemed so tragic. Any fool could see how much they still cared for each other. If Jasper had a woman like Suzette, he’d cherish her, never give her any reason to doubt his love and devotion. Only something terrible, an act neither could change, would’ve driven them so far apart.

  The door opening pulled Jasper’s attention from the Donahues to a man he didn’t recognize.

  “May I help you?”

  Above average height, slim, with short brown hair and trimmed beard, Jasper guessed the man to be in his late thirties. Although the modest beard and spectacles made it hard to be certain.

  “I have an appointment with Bayard Donahue. Is he in?”

  Jasper ran a finger down the appointment log, seeing nothing, the same as he’d found for Suzette. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Donahue didn’t list it. I’m Jasper Hamm, his assistant. You are?”

  The man glanced around, ignoring the question. “Perhaps I could wait in his office.”

  “I apologize, but we don’t allow anyone in either of the partners’ offices when they aren’t here. I could take your name and where you’re staying for Mr. Donahue when he returns.”

  The man continued to look around, as if memorizing each detail. Facing Jasper, his mouth twisted into a humorless grin. “The name is Jones. I’ll come back another time.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he removed a bottle of whiskey. “Please give this to Mr. Donahue when you see him.”

  Jasper cocked his head in question, taking the offered bottle before the man stepped outside, taking the boardwalk east. Dashing to the window, he watched for a moment, shrugging.

  Lifting the whiskey, he studied the bottle before taking the stairs to Bay’s office. “This has been an odd morning. Yes, indeed. Quite peculiar,” Jasper murmured, wondering what else the day might bring.

  Sheriff Brodie MacLaren strode toward the jail, the lunch his wife had prepared in one hand, the newspaper in the other. He’d read the article about Bay the night before, anger pulsing through him at the details Ivers used to expose his friend’s life. It made him sick to think how many people who’d dreamed of killing Bay would show up in Conviction, looking for either revenge or glory. Neither gave him any comfort.

  “Hey, MacLaren.”

  Brodie whipped around, staring at the man riding toward him. Stepping from the boardwalk to the street, a smile of recognition curved his lips.

  “Colt Dye.” He walked toward him, waiting while Colt slid to the ground, tos
sing the reins over the rail. Extending his hand, they shook before Brodie slapped him on the back. “What brings you all the way from Texas to Conviction, lad?”

  “My job.” He followed Brodie to the door of the jail. “I’ve been transferred. You’re looking at the new U.S. Marshal for this region.”

  Brodie shoved the door open, motioning for Colt to go inside. “That’s grand. We need someone we can depend on. We’ve not had much support out here.”

  Taking a seat, Colt stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “The powers in Washington finally took notice of the number of people coming this way. It doesn’t hurt that San Francisco and the towns around the bay are experiencing a big increase in crime. When headquarters asked for recommendations, my captain asked if I had an interest.” He shrugged, accepting the cup of coffee Brodie offered. “It was a surprise when they approved the transfer.”

  “I’m not surprised, lad. You’re a good lawman, and you can’t be bought.”

  Laughter preceded the door opening. Deputies Sam Covington, Seth Montero, and Alex Campbell walked in, stopping when they saw who sat across from Brodie.

  “What the hell are you doing in Conviction, Colt?” Sam gripped the outstretched hand, stepping aside for Seth and Alex to do the same.

  Brodie looked between his deputies. “The lad’s been transferred out here.”

  “That’s great news. We can sure use your help.” Seth picked up a chair, moving it next to Colt.

  “Have you already checked with your captain in San Francisco?” Alex asked, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands.

  Colt nodded, his expression turning bleak. “I have.” He sipped the coffee, thinking about his latest assignment and how it involved the men in this room. Draining the cup, he set it on the desk. “Appears you’ve got some trouble coming this way.”

  Brodie chuckled. “We’ve always got trouble, lad.”

  “Not like this.” Colt pulled two folded papers from a pocket, sliding them across the desk to Brodie.