She blinked and straightened the stack of papers again. “Why on earth would I do that?”
To force my cooperation. He felt the blood drain from his face and spun to look out the window once more. His eyes narrowed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, here, Katrina.”
“Sam, darling. I’d never do anything to hurt you! I need you to trust me.”
“Allowing Judd to keep rustling our stock is hurting me. Both of us.”
Her laughter tinkled like sleigh bells. “You just leave Judd to me. If there’s one thing I know about it’s manipulating men. Father saw to that, now didn’t he?” He held his silence and after a moment she moved on. “You just worry about getting that date out of Missy.”
He sighed. “She trusted me with private information, Katrina. What kind of man would I be to take advantage of that for my own gain?”
“A smart one.” Soft footsteps approached and then she put one arm around his back and leaned her head against his shoulder, looking out the window with him. “Just think of all we could do with that kind of money. You’ve never liked it here. Maybe we could travel to Paris, or New York.” She squeezed him. “Just a few more days, Sammy. And she’s very easy on the eyes, don’t you think? You have to keep courting her, wooing her. And get her to tell you when the shipment is due to arrive. Judd and I are all set up to take care of everything else.”
Sam rolled his shoulders to dislodge her embrace and glanced down at the fringe of the carpet beneath his feet. “People might be killed.” Not to mention the stealing.
Katrina sighed and turned him to face her, gripping his shoulders gently. “If everyone does their job there will be no need to worry about anyone getting killed.”
“Katrina, we don’t even need the money! I can’t help you. I won’t.”
“Yes. You can. And you will! She doesn’t need the money! Look at that fancy house she lives in with her parents.”
“They don’t live in much nicer of a place than we do.”
Katrina growled. “But they aren’t barely scraping by like we are.”
“We’d be doing just fine if Judd quit rustling our cattle!”
She touched his face. “Judd will get what’s coming to him. For now, he’s useful to us. You just have to keep your focus on the reason for it all. Just think of you and me strolling down the streets of Paris, France. Or dining with senators in New York. You could run for office! Or simply fritter away your days doing whatever it is you feel like doing at the moment. Just think of the theatres, operas, and galas we could attend!”
He sighed. That did sound good. All except the part where the money wasn’t really theirs.
Apparently thinking it was resignation in his eyes, Katrina gave a firm nod. “Good. Stay focused. Oh, and forget about this school teacher! She’s not for you, Sammy. Besides, I think she saw something she shouldn’t have. However, Mick should be taking care of that for me as we speak.”
“Kat! If he hurts her…”
“Would I do something like that? Of course not. She just won’t be teaching here ever again.”
So she’d concocted some lie about Sharyah. Sam despaired of ever getting his sister to see the error of her ways. “Mick is the one who messed up the plan in the first place. If he’d have kept away from Missy, she wouldn’t have shunned me.” Not that that meant he would have gone along with Katrina’s plan.
Katrina sighed. “Mick is young and restless with a lot to learn, yes. In fact, I’m planning on leaving him in jail to think about it for a few days. But he’s a good young man.”
Sam glanced at her. Sometimes he worried about Katrina. “Good young men don’t go around raping women, Katrina Perry.”
She gasped. “Such language! You shouldn’t speak of such things in front of a lady.”
Sam pretended to search the room. “A lady? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was one present.”
Lifting her skirts she tilted up her nose and stormed from the room.
He watched her go, then turned to face the windows.
Good young men didn’t go around stealing money, either. And he’d come to genuinely care for Missy during their talks. He clenched his fists. What was he going to do?
Cade hunkered down under the chuck wagon, which still sat in the exact place they’d left it that morning, with his Winchester by his side. Collier had put together a crew of twelve competent men and Cade had stationed them at various hiding places and now they waited.
Rodale and his men should be back any moment now. Cade had instructed that they would take the men the moment they rode into the glen, before they had time to realize that Mick and Red weren’t here and something was wrong.
But as the hours stretched on past midnight, he realized Judd wasn’t coming. Finally he stood, summoning the men to him. “Let’s call it a night, men. If Rodale was coming back, he would have been here by now.” Cade picked up a rock and heaved it into the darkness, frustration coursing through him.
Someone had tipped the man off. Could nothing about this job be easy?
She must have been much more tired than she realized because the next thing Sharyah knew, someone gently called her to wake.
“Sharyah.” Whoever it was stood just on the other side of the door, knocking.
She stretched and sat up, pushing her cascade of curls back from her face. The sun was already up and streaming through the lace curtains at the window creating a mottled pattern on the floor. “I can’t believe I slept so late!” Or that she’d slept at all after that note had been shoved under the door.
Wondering what had happened the night before she bolted to her feet and opened the door. Cade, stood there holding a steaming cup of coffee out to her.
“Thank you. How did it go last night?” She tried to step out into the hallway to talk to him, but he didn’t budge. She stilled and looked at him. He seemed a little dazed. Weariness lined his face and she suddenly realized he was staring at her hair which must be in its usual wild morning disarray. Quickly she set the coffee on a shelf, scooped her hair up and twisted it into a semi-disciplined style.
He cleared his throat and gave himself a little shake. “Someone must have tipped them off . They never came back.”
A tremor of fear raced through her. What if they had set up an ambush of their own and she’d lost him? How easily they would have been able to harm him. He’d made some fierce enemies when he arrested Red and Mick.
In that instant she made her decision. She would not tell him about the letter she’d seen or the note that had been shoved under the door the night before. At least not yet. She needed to think some things through before she brought it up. Slipping one hand into her pocket to insure the note remained hidden, she said, “You look exhausted.”
He blinked slowly and nodded.
Purposefully, she placed one hand on his chest and pushed him backwards. She grabbed up her reticule and stepped out into the hallway gesturing him into the room. “You need to get some sleep.”
The fact that he didn’t argue with her proved her point. He stepped into the room, but as she started down the hallway, he reached out to grab her arm. His fingers tangled in the strings of her reticule and it tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents across the hallway.
Her handkerchief, the last letter she’d received from Mama. The tintype of Cade that she carried with her everywhere. She gasped and snatched for it, but he beat her to it.
Lifting the image, he stared down at it for a long moment.
If ever there was a moment she’d have liked to disappear, that was it.
He flicked the corner of it, as he angled her a measured look, then without comment he handed it back to her. “Two hours.” He cleared his throat. “Give me two hours and then come back and wake me. And Sharyah,” he reached into his boot and pulled out a derringer, “please, stay around places where there are other people. Carry this with you and don’t go anywhere without it for the next several days. Put it in your little bag there with your other… treasures.”
Flames licked at her cheeks as her gaze flew to his.
He winked.
And she couldn’t help a sheepish smile. She’d wanted to go to the schoolhouse and look over some lessons. Even if she wasn’t allowed to teach right away she would still need to have plans if she was ever reinstated. But despite his teasing, there was real concern in his eyes, and the memory of Mick Rodale’s lecherous hands grabbing her made her nod her head in agreement. She folded her arms and rubbed them. “I will.”
With a curt nod, he disappeared behind the door and it clicked shut.
Missy Green had just finished her morning toilette when a knock sounded at the front door. Staring blankly into the mirror at her dressing table, she listened closely to see who it would be at their door at this hour of the day.
Papa’s footsteps echoed on the foyer floor and the door creaked open.
Someone spoke low words, too muffled for her to understand. Only a moment later, Papa tapped at her room with his signature rat-tat, tat, tat.
“Come,” she called.
Papa poked his head in, a worried look on his face, hair mussed and protruding at odd angles from his head. “Join me in the parlor for a moment, would you dear?” A furrow puckered his brow.
She pressed away the wave of fear that surged, threatening to send her straight back to bed to cower under the covers for the rest of the day. “Certainly, Papa. Who was at the door?”
Papa cleared his throat and polished his glasses, avoiding the question with, “Just join us in the parlor if you would, dear.”
“Alright.” She rose and followed on his heels to the parlor.
Sam Perry paced the carpet at the center of the large room, his bowler twirling from one finger.
She halted at the threshold.
Papa always forgot to use the hat-tree when guests arrived. Mama would give him what-for about it later.
The moment he noticed her standing there, Sam froze to one spot, pressing his hat to his chest with both hands.
“Missy,” his eyes darted to her father standing off to one side of the room, “ah, Miss Green.” He nodded and gave a small bow to complete the greeting.
She dropped a faint curtsy. “Mr. Perry.” Then she waited with suspended breath.
Mama floated into the room, her skirts swaying around her ankles. “Mr. Perry.” She curtsied. “What a pleasant surprise. May I take your hat?” She tossed Papa a quick glance of disapproval.
Sam didn’t seem to notice. “Ah, I’ll only be a moment, ma’am. It’s fine, thank you.”
“Very well.” She started to turn, and Missy knew she would be headed toward the kitchen to fetch refreshments, but she paused. “Would you prefer coffee or tea, Mr. Perry.” Mama was always willing to go out of her way, even when someone showed up for a visit unexpectedly.
“Neither, thank you. I’m fine, really. I’ll only be a moment.”
Sam seemed a little put-out. Like he simply wanted to get to the point of the matter and be gone. He hadn’t been comfortable around her since… well, since that very dreadful night.
Apparently taking his cue, Mama sank onto the settee and clasped trembling hands in her lap.
Papa was the first to speak after that. “Please, Mr. Perry, have a seat. Missy, dear, why don’t you sit as well. Mr. Perry has news. News about a trial for Mick Rodale.”
That man’s name took the strength from her legs and she needed no more prompting to sink into the settee next to Mama. She glanced back and forth from Sam to Papa, waiting expectantly.
Sam sat on the wing-backed chair, his hat dangling between his legs as he leaned toward her. “Missy—” He closed his eyes in a quick gesture of frustration at his repeated blunder, then pressed on— “Miss Green, Mick Rodale was brought into the jail last night. Judge Thatcher is due to ride through town today, and the trial will begin right away.” He paused, his eyes softening. “I’m afraid we’ll need you to testify.”
She swallowed. She’d prayed the day would come, but she’d never ever dreamed how difficult it would be when it happened. Pressing her lips together, she glanced down at her hands folded properly in her lap and nodded. “I can do that.”
Could she really? Get up in front of the whole town and tell the indescribable things that man had done to her? Just imagining the gasps that would ensue from all the local families sure to be in attendance made her lightheaded and woozy. She closed her eyes. Then there was the guilt of knowing that the truth once spoken would most probably send the man to the gallows. Did she want that on her conscience for the rest of her life? He wasn’t very old.
She shuddered. Then again, if he was old enough to do to her what he had done, she supposed he was old enough to dangle from the end of a rope.
Sam stood, tucking his hat under his arm. “Alright then, someone will be by to get you a little later.”
Missy nodded but couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I know it won’t be easy.”
She didn’t respond and after a long moment Papa escorted him from the room.
“She’ll be ready,” Papa said.
But deep inside Missy knew she would never be ready, no matter how long it took them to come for her.
Two hours after leaving the hotel, Sharyah returned and glanced both ways as she walked down the hallway toward Cade’s room. She didn’t want anyone to see her going to knock on a man’s door. She already had enough problems with her reputation.
No one was in sight so she timidly tapped the wood, calling softly, “Cade?”
No response.
She knocked a little louder. “Cade?”
Still nothing. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. What if something had happened to him? She could almost feel burning heat emanating from the threatening note in her pocket.
She glanced up and down the hall once more. Still no one in sight. Turning the knob, she opened it a spare inch and called again. This time she could hear his deep even breathing. Relief eased the tension in her shoulders. She should just back away and let him sleep, but she knew if he missed the trial which she’d learned was indeed going to proceed today, he would never let her hear the end of it. Judge Thatcher had ridden in just a few moments earlier and announced the trial for ten that morning.
Making a quick decision after one more assessment of the hallway, she pushed through the door and shut it behind her. Leaning back against her hands, her pulse hammering in her ears, she scanned the man. He looked like he hadn’t moved from the moment he’d fallen onto the bed.
Her heart stirred.
Fully clothed, he must have lain down and then remembered that he still had his boots on and removed them, because one boot lay beside him on the bed, while the other lay on its side on the floor near the brass headboard. His hat lay across his face to block out the sunlight, and even with her entering the room he was still breathing evenly.
She walked over beside him and touched his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Cade.”
With a jolt he sat up, grabbed her arm, and before she could even think to cry out he had her flipped onto the bed. The metal barrel of a pistol that had magically appeared in his hand chilled the skin of her throat.
“Cade it’s just me!” She swallowed and did her best to suppress her trembling.
He blinked down at her slowly, his tousled black curls poking from his head in unruly abandon. “Sharyah?” He squinched his eyes shut and when they opened again they were wide awake. “Sharyah!” He jerked the gun away from her and let the hammer down, clambering to his feet and reaching out one hand to help her up. “Sorry. What are you doing here?”
“You told me to wake you up.”
He glanced around the room, obviously still trying to shake off the weight of sleep. “I meant to call to me from the hallway.”
“I tried.”
“I see.” He blinked slowly again. “Uh. Give me a second and I’ll be right out.”
She nodded. Yes, that was a very good idea. Because right at this momen
t she wanted nothing more than to run her hands through those disheveled curls and kiss away the sleepy confusion in his eyes. She clasped her hands behind her. “I’ll, just be in the hallway.”
A few minutes later, Cade escorted her down the boardwalk toward the diner. The back of her neck prickled, and she glance behind them. Could someone be watching them, even now? Maybe even thinking she’d told Cade about the diamonds? What if she didn’t tell him and they killed him anyway?
He glanced at her sideways. “You alright?”
“What?” She frowned and only then realized that she’d been scanning the street nervously. “Yes. It’s nothing.” She composed her features to reflect calm assurance.
He touched her elbow and pulled her to a stop. “Something happened, didn’t it? What’s the matter?”
She worked her lower lip with her teeth. She should just tell him. It would be a relief, really. But then she reminded herself that Cade’s trap from the night before had been compromised. Whoever these people were, they were powerful and she couldn’t risk Cade’s life simply because she couldn’t handle the pressure of a little secret. She forced a smile. “Really. I’m well. Just tired and maybe a little jumpy from all that’s happened over the last couple days.”
He looked skeptical but didn’t press the issue and fell in beside her as she continued down the boardwalk.
They passed the millinery shop and Sharyah admired the way Mrs. Haversham had covered her half of the alley between her building and the boarding house next door with a lattice fence. Pots of morning glories, planted just in front of the lattice, climbed through and around the fence, hiding the dingy alley behind. A movement down the alley caught her attention and she stopped mid-stride, leaning closer to the lattice to get a better view through one of the holes.
Just down the alley, crouched behind a barrel which sat against the wall by a door she presumed led to the kitchen of the boarding house, sat a small child. The child seemed familiar, but his back was to her.
Cade looked at her, then leaned forward and followed her gaze down the alley.
The door opened and someone tossed a bucket of garbage into the burn barrel the child hid behind. As soon as the door closed, the boy stood and filtered through the fresh offerings.
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