Just who was he? Why did he dare behave in an overly familiar manner?
Mother blinked. Her eyelids fluttered, but not in interest. She fell back a half-step, one hand hovering at the brooch pinned at the throat of her suit. “I’m— I—”
“Miriam.” Lockhart leaned in and for one horrible, agonizing moment, Adaline realized the disgusting man intended to kiss her mother.
“Mr. Lockhart.” Adaline interrupted, pushing between the unlikely pair to free her mother of Lockhart’s grasp, and grabbed the pouch from the table.
“This money,” she told him, civility long gone, “covers two missed payments, as well as January and February.” Maybe. Pastor Gilbert hadn’t actually said how much the sack contained.
Where was Malloy? She needed him. He’d know what to do, and she should consult with him before she did something desperate like turn over the hard-earned money her neighbors had sacrificed.
“This evening,” Adaline told Lockhart, her voice shaking with barely bottled rage, “Mr. Malloy and I will meet you—” Where? What would Malloy do?
Lockhart’s gaze strayed to the weighty sack of coins.
Suddenly she knew. She knew what Malloy would do. “We’ll meet you at the residence of Roderick Van Pletzen, attorney at law. Mr. Van Pletzen will draw up a receipt for the money we will pass into your safekeeping. You may then return to Denver and inform the bank that the Whipple family will make timely payments from here on.”
Of course she had no appointment with Van Pletzen, but he’d been a good friend to her father, and anticipated he’d help if he could. If Malloy wanted to change plans, they could leave a message for Lockhart at the hotel. “Seven-o’clock.”
Lockhart chuckled, the tone far more mocking than joyful. “Who is this Malloy you say will accompany you?”
“Our accountant.”
“Ah. No doubt you’re far more… adequate in the kitchen than in the office, dear girl.”
Anger… it must be anger, for she’d never experienced emotion nearly as powerful or overwhelming, surged, trembled through her limbs and constricted her throat. “Good day.”
Lockhart visually assessed the pouch. He did not seem to comprehend she’d dismissed him.
Adaline clamped her hands, the drawstring pouch between them, at her waist. “See yourself out.” She stared hard at the man, daring him to argue.
With unnatural slowness, Lockhart braced one arm on the work table, propped a fist on his hip, and crossed one ankle over the other. “The loan is in default.”
“And tonight, at our attorney’s residence, we will present four months’ payments. It’s no longer in default because we’re caught up.”
“You stupid girl.”
Anger flashed brilliant white and she wanted to clobber him with an iron skillet. He outweighed her by a minimum of fifty pounds. Despite the age difference, and with only her frail mother for assistance it seemed absurd to escalate the argument to physical blows.
He hooted with laughter. “Four payments? Now? As I said yesterday, the debt is due in full.”
At Adaline’s back, Mother gasped. Adaline reached behind and held onto her mother for mutual support, but never took her eyes of Lockhart’s brutal features. His smug expression morphed into fury.
Why he’d turned belligerent when she’d made reasonable plans to pay him, when he could see she likely had the money— made no sense. None. Wouldn’t the bank rather collect something than nothing?
“You realize the mortgage was drawn against collateral of this business.” He tipped his head back, following the line of the ceiling to the rear wall as if assessing what might be hidden above stairs. “This building. And the contents.”
Oh, God. The neighbors, Pastor Gilbert, they’d seen this coming, hadn’t they? The minister had offered her family a place in his home.
“According to the law, Miss Whipple,” Lockhart shouted in anger, “the family of the deceased bears all legal responsibility to settle debts incurred.”
Mother clung to Adaline’s waist, her slender body quaking with silent tears.
Adaline glared harder at Lockhart. He’d made her mother cry. He no doubt had the children upstairs, huddling together. “I never said we wouldn’t pay. Tonight at seven—”
“You are liable to repay the debt in full,” he bellowed. “Immediately.”
“That’s ridiculous! Nowhere in that document…” But she didn’t know. She couldn’t locate Papa’s copy. Terror and worry coalesced. Never had she felt more helpless.
Trembling wildly, she folded her arms in a pathetic attempt to hold herself together. This couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t.
“I am authorized to forcibly remove you from the premises, to sell the property, and transport salable items back to Denver, if necessary. First National will recoup every last dollar your shortsighted, good-for-nothing, redneck father owes the bank.”
Chapter Seven
Malloy shifted his saddlebags to the other shoulder and knocked on the bakery’s door. Surely they hadn’t left for church without him, had they?
He cupped a hand around his eye to better peer through the window into the darkened interior. He raised his hand to knock again and glimpsed Adaline headed toward him at a trot.
She unlocked and opened the door. Her tear-stained cheeks knocked the wind right out of him. He kicked the door shut with his heel, dropped his saddlebags, and hugged her close. She’d faced a whole lot of pain in the past twenty-four hours, and he’d not seen her dissolve into hysterics, ‘til now. Whatever had happened, it was bad.
She clung to the back of his coat. “Where have you been?”
“I sent the telegram then picked up my things at the boarding house. No sense staying there when you need me here.” Regret sliced to the bone. She’d needed him, and he’d let her down.
Blast it all to Hades. He’d developed a third weakness, one that surpassed the others.
One: women in a fix.
Two: a female in tears.
Three: the woman he loved, in a fix, and in tears.
This woman, his woman…
“Darlin’, I’ve got you. I’m here now.” Regret crawled up his throat, constricted, made it damn hard to breathe. “What happened?”
“Lockhart. He showed up not l-long after you left. Said he wasn’t here for business, but for a social call— like I couldn’t see through his nonsense.” She sniffed and drew a shaky breath “Oh, it was business all right. He had to lord that debt over our heads, make sure we knew for sure and certain he has all the power—”
“Is he still here?” If so, Malloy’s fist had an appointment with the banker’s smug jaw.
“I threw him out.”
“That’s my girl.” He cupped her head, held her tight, even as the desperation to help Adaline and her family redoubled. They were his to protect, his to care for.
“I can’t believe the gall of that man.” She blew her nose. “He threatened eviction. Now. One week before Christmas.”
Malloy swallowed a curse. “Not if I can help it.”
“We’ll be homeless. We have no family to turn to. Mama’s sister didn’t come to the funeral, didn’t write, didn’t even acknowledge Papa died, and we don’t know if she’s still in St. Louis or not. For all I know, she’s not living. Papa has no family left— it’s just us. Without this bakery, how will I feed us? How could I possibly keep my baby sisters warm?”
“You’re not gonna have to find out. We’ll fix this.”
She’d lived here every day of her life, and always known stability. She associated every good thing in her life with this building so probably couldn’t see the good in living free and unencumbered. To her, losing her home was worth shedding tears. So he let her cry. He heard her carry on about the minister offering to take her family in.
He couldn’t let her fears continue to worry her. “Darlin’, listen to me. Listen.”
She quieted, just a little.
“I’m here, and I’m not g
oin’ anywhere. I collected my bags ‘cause I can’t stay away from you. You need me, and I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”
She trembled. “Promise?”
Aw, darlin’. His heart constricted with a profound, overwhelming rush of affection for this beautiful woman. Somehow, when he’d not been paying attention, his determination to do whatever it took to help her, to see her through, had been carved in stone. Nothin’ could change it.
Love. Pure, genuine, and unlike anything he’d ever known.
I love her.
The powerful emotion rolled through him with the force of a thunderstorm, panic chasin’ hard on its heels.
Now wasn’t the time to examine that new revelation too closely, so he set it aside behind a locked door and focused on the trouble at hand. They had problems to wrangle. He’d worry about what to do about loving Adaline Whipple later.
She needed reassurances. She needed to know her family would be cared for in the most basic of ways. “I promise, Adaline, no way, no way in blazes would I let you go hungry or want for shelter and protection.”
Yeah, he’d have to find a place for them to live, but that was feasible. “I might not be rich, but I have enough set aside to care for my own.” He kissed her temple, thrilled at her tight hold about his middle and delicious softness of her figure. “That means you and your family.”
If only he had enough to wipe the slate clean, he’d do it. But he didn’t think Adaline would like the idea of him paying the debt as if he’d expect something in return.
All he wanted was her heart, and nobody’s heart should be for sale.
She brushed her cheek against his chest. “Thank you, Malloy. You make me feel safe.”
Her sincerity touched him deep. It felt darn good.
She pressed her small hand over his heart and he desperately wished he didn’t still wear his bulky coat. He would have liked to feel her touch.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
In that moment, he felt invincible. Indomitable. Prepared to fight her battles, no matter the cost.
***
Malloy held Adaline close until her tears subsided.
Everything she’d told him whirled in his head like a dust storm and made little sense. There must be more to what Lockhart had said, more they could use to piece together the man’s motivations.
Upstairs, footfalls sounded. He knew Adaline’s ma was up there with the kids, yet one of the girl’s tears and hysteria grew louder and louder.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Malloy suggested to Adaline. “They need reassurance, and I need to better understand what happened.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand and started for the stairs. “Oh, wait.” She rushed back to turn the key in the lock.
“Come with me.” She led him up the stairs where her mother sat on the sofa with one twin on either side, both sobbing. Mrs. Whipple’s lack of composure said plenty.
Lockhart had caused a lot of damage this morning, and Malloy should’ve prevented it.
Lesson learned.
All he could do now was fix it. He moved a comfortably worn chair closer for Adaline then pulled its match in to face the family. He unbuttoned his coat and tossed it over the back of another well-upholstered chair he pictured as Thaddeus’s.
Yep. Family. That meant they’d solve this together, and he owed them the very best he had.
Buoyed by Adaline’s trust and confidence in him, Malloy squeezed Juliette’s hand. The child threw her arms around him, surprising him good.
Never in his life had a child hugged him. He liked it. Even if she squeezed his neck too tight for comfort.
“Hey, now, darlin’.” He patted her back.
Jane launched herself at him, too.
His throat closed. He could well imagine this family, gathered around Papa Thaddeus, right here, in their home. Thaddeus Whipple, rock, protector, provider. Malloy didn’t know how he’d fit into the shifting family after the loss of their patriarch, but he wanted to try.
Adaline’s soothing touch on his back told him what her words did not— she liked his willingness to hug her kid sisters, to try and help the whole lot of ‘em.
“We’re gonna fix this,” he assured them all and meant it. “As long as we have each other, we have everything we need. Got that?”
Juliette nodded against his shoulder. Jane squeezed a little tighter.
Sunlight streamed through the sitting room window, illuminating the curve of Adaline’s cheek. Heaven help him, he loved this woman. If he’d have a life with her, it would include her sisters— at least for another handful of years— and her widowed ma, likely the rest of her life.
A family, for Malloy. Who could have known, when he’d first noticed the tantalizing aromas coming from Whipple’s Bakery, that he’d find within everything he most craved?
“Ladies, I need to know, from the very beginning, everything you remember ‘bout Lockhart’s visit. No detail is too small so don’t leave anything out. You were all there, so I need help from all of you.”
They looked at him, anxious and silent.
“I want to handle this right. I can’t do that if I don’t know what happened.”
Once they got started, the information piled as deep as snowdrifts. They detailed the minister’s arrival with a sack of coins, cherry pie, and Sheridan Lockhart’s arrival.
He heard too much from Jane about Lockhart’s fancy suit, ruby pin, and excessive use of Bay Rum.
He took Adaline’s hand in his. “Tell me what he said.”
“He claimed his visit was a social call and asked to see Mother. Yesterday morning, he asked for Father. But when I explained that wasn’t possible, he asked if I were Mrs. Whipple, and I told him no, I’m Miss Whipple, so then he wanted to speak to Mother. He pressured me twice more, I believe, to see her. That’s what he said he’d come for this morning. To see Mama. And when he called her Miriam, I thought I’d have a fit of apoplexy—”
“Wait,” Malloy interrupted. “Lockhart called you by name, Mrs. Whipple?” He split a glance between Adaline and her mother.
“Yes. He addressed her as Miriam,” Adaline repeated. “It caught me off guard. I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say.”
Malloy leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Mrs. Whipple, why does Sheridan Lockhart know your name?”
He watched the older woman’s face carefully. Surely this was a valuable piece of the puzzle.
“I… I don’t know.” She hugged both twins close to her sides, stroked Jane’s hair. “He could have spoken to any number of people here in town. I’m friendly with many of the ladies. Anyone could have told him.”
Maybe. He supposed.
“That’s not all,” Adaline continued. “He was disturbingly pleasant, behaving like it was a social call. As if he were Mother’s beau and honestly believed we’d welcome him into our home.”
Malloy caught the expression of frustration Adaline shot her mother. “Why wouldn’t you step out of the room with me? I needed to talk to you, and I showed respect for you, Mama. Help me understand why you wouldn’t acknowledge my question.”
Not the direction he’d wanted to take the conversation, but Malloy saw the value in it. He sat quietly, still, and waited.
Mrs. Whipple’s gaze fell to her lap, to her hands twined with her two youngest daughters’. She seemed insubstantial in her too-loose dress. Adaline had mentioned her mother’s poor appetite and depressed spirits.
An urgent desire to defend and protect rose within Malloy, and he fought it down. He would defend this woman from outside forces, but she couldn’t keep all of her secrets— not with her daughters’ future at stake.
“I thought…” Mrs. Whipple closed her eyes. “I thought perhaps…”
“What, Mother?” Adaline’s tone had softened, beseeching. “Please, tell us.”
“He reminded me of happier times. My youth.” Mrs. Whipple shrugged a narrow shoulder. “Carefree days. When li
fe was easy.”
He couldn’t fault her. She’d been through a trying time. Anyone would struggle.
The subject seemed to play itself out. Malloy asked, “When I got here, you told me Lockhart threatened eviction. Seizure of property to pay the debt. Tell me more about that.”
“Everything was fine,” Mrs. Whipple insisted. “He’s a most skilled conversationalist.”
Adaline’s tears flowed. “I admit starting it. When he called mother by her given name and tried to kiss her—”
That caught Malloy’s attention. “He tried to kiss you, Mrs. Whipple?”
Juliette sobbed aloud.
Jane leapt into the fray, “Juliette! Hush up. No more crying.”
Mrs. Whipple hid her face in her hands. Her whole frame shook with tears.
Malloy had never found himself so fully outnumbered by hysterical women. He glanced at Adaline for help. “What happened?”
“I charged right between them. No one, no one will take advantage of my mother.”
Now Jane bawled. The twins held hands over their mother’s lap, and Adaline reached for her mother to offer a bit of comfort.
Malloy’s ears rang. Just what had he gotten himself into?
He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.
The volume in the room at large dropped significantly.
“Ladies—” He held up two hands in the universal sign of surrender. “I’m not casting blame anywhere. Not on any of you.”
Juliette drew a noisy, shaky breath.
Heaven help him. Bawling women… who he should’ve been here to defend.
He shook his head. “Back up. Everybody back up to the moment Adaline stepped between Mother and Lockhart.”
Hesitancy gathered in her eyes. He asked the question, anyway. “What did you say, Adaline?”
“I believe I suggested Pastor Gilbert walk Mr. Lockhart back to the hotel. I did it only so he wouldn’t invite himself along to church with us. I just couldn’t bear it. I’d had enough of him showering mother with false compliments, his too-familiar touches, his very courtship-like behavior.”
Now Mother’s tears flowed as freely as her daughters’. They were getting nowhere, fast.
Silver Belles and Stetsons Page 34
