Promising Hearts

by Radclyffe

  “Lord, I do know.” Mae pushed impatiently at an errant curl that fluttered around the corner of her mouth. “I just wish I knew what else she plans to do.”

  “If I knew, I’d tell you,” Kate said reassuringly. “All I know is she and Jessie talked about meeting in the saloon tonight at midnight. I think they’re hoping to follow Michael Hanrahan and get some information that they can use to negotiate with whoever owns this place.”

  Mae laughed harshly. “Negotiate? Is that what Vance said?”

  “Well, not exactly, but that’s what I assumed.”

  “Oh, honey, back East folks might negotiate. Out here? The only thing that changes anything is money or bullets.”

  “Perhaps I misinterpreted,” Kate said worriedly. “But I have a feeling that Jessie understood Vance perfectly.”

  *

  Vance leaned her back against the bar and watched Mae work her way through the crowded room in her direction. Every few steps a cowboy or gambler in fancy clothes would stop her with an arm around her waist and whisper something in her ear. She’d laugh and deftly extract herself from his grasp and move on. She was an expert at avoiding wandering caresses without giving affront. It was a talent, like those sleight-of-hand magic shows. Her smile was so brilliant, her laugh so alluring, that the men never realized they had never once truly touched her.

  “You look like you’re studying on something very serious,” Mae said as she stepped close to Vance’s side. She’d been aware of Vance’s eyes on her since the moment she’d stepped out onto the balcony and started down the stairs. She’d also known that Vance could see every hand that touched her on her journey. “Something wrong?”

  “I wonder if any of them knows how much they’ve just missed?”

  Mae’s heart gave a little jump of surprise and wonder. “You don’t look at the world like anyone else I know.”

  Vance smiled faintly. “I’ve been told that before.” She traced a fingertip down the sleek curve of Mae’s arm, exposed below the narrow shoulder of her maroon gown. “You’re an amazingly beautiful woman. But your true beauty lies somewhere no one touches.”

  “Except you,” Mae murmured.

  “Except me.” Vance watched Mae’s full, moist lips curve with pleasure. “I want to kiss you.”

  “I’m glad, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Mae angled her body to block the view of anyone in the room and slid a hand inside Vance’s coat. She caressed her, fingers dancing over her stomach. “If they saw how it was really done, they’d figure out they’re being cheated.”

  “Not cheated,” Vance said, her voice rough with desire. “Not if they’ve put one finger on you.”

  “You keep talking like that, and I’m—” Mae broke off as an arm came around her waist and tugged her roughly backward, away from Vance. She knew who it was without needing to see his face. “Is that any way to say hello?”

  Michael Hanrahan pulled Mae against him and held her there. He bent his head and rubbed his stubbled cheek over her neck. With his mouth against her ear and his hand roaming over the front of her body, he muttered, “You don’t look like you’re real busy.”

  “The night is young and I was just getting started.” Mae kept her voice light and her expression unconcerned, because she could feel Vance’s fury from three feet away. She pointedly did not look at her, because she was afraid that any connection between them now would break Vance’s fragile restraint. Instead, she turned as much as she could in Hanrahan’s grasp, putting her back to Vance. “There’s a full house tonight. Let’s take care of your business so I can take care of mine.”

  Hanrahan grabbed Mae’s hand and pressed it down on the front of his pants. “How about we take care of that business.”

  Mae didn’t try to pull away, but met his hot gaze coolly. “I don’t remember that being part of the arrangement.”

  “Nobody has to know.”

  “But I might forget myself and mention it.”

  His expression hardened, and he pushed her away. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  When Vance started after them, she was brought up sharply by an iron grip on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes aflame.

  “You don’t want to be getting in the middle of that,” Frank said. “You might end up satisfied, but Mae will pay for it.”

  “Not if he’s dead,” Vance said through clenched teeth.

  “If he’s gonna be dead, it would be better if no one knew just how that came about.” He busied himself wiping nonexistent spills from the bar. “Could be I might lend a hand there.”

  Vance blew out a long breath and reined in her temper. “Appreciate it. But I think I’ll keep you for the heavy work.”

  He grinned. “Still, you might want company.”

  “That’s been arranged.”

  “Has it now?” He nodded approval. “Well then, stop around for a drink when you’re finished.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  When Vance scanned the room and balcony, Mae was gone. She’d taken Hanrahan to her room to give him the money that she and the other women earned. If that’s all that was happening up there, he would be coming down soon. Vance motioned for Frank to fill her glass, which he did. She picked it up with a steady hand and drank it down in one fast swallow, welcoming the sharp burn that settled in the pit of her stomach. Then she placed the glass on the bar and walked out.

  *

  Vance waited in the shadows beneath the stairs that led to the second floor and Mae’s rooms. She didn’t think about what was happening upstairs, because if she did, she’d go upstairs and finish things before they even started. And in the end, she would accomplish nothing. She wished for a cigarette, something she hadn’t wanted since waiting in the dark for the last battle. She didn’t need to look at her watch. She knew what time it was. The night felt empty, devoid of life. Nothing stirred. Even the horses tethered in front of the saloon stood silently, their heads down, their breath streaming soundlessly through flared nostrils beneath the moonless sky.

  Almost fifteen minutes passed before the door above her opened and boot heels thudded on the wooden staircase. She slid her revolver from the holster but did not cock it until he reached the ground. Then she stepped up behind him, forced the muzzle to the back of his neck, and thumbed the hammer.

  The sound cut through the stillness like cannon shot.

  Hanrahan stiffened.

  “Hello, Michael,” Vance said quietly.

  The man relaxed slightly as if he recognized a woman’s voice. “You might want to put that away before someone gets hurt.”

  His tone suggested that Vance would be the one to suffer. She laughed and pushed it harder into his skin. The pain forced him to stumble forward a step, and she shoved him face first against the wall with her hip. She pinned him with her left shoulder, welcoming the pain as it seared through her brain and cleared her head. Then she dropped the gun from the back of his head and forced it between his legs. She angled the barrel up and forward until it met resistance.

  “Do you like it here better?”

  Her voice was soft and cold, a sliver of ice slipping into his heart. He shivered and gasped, but didn’t move. “What do you want?”

  “To teach you some manners.”

  “Wha—” He grunted as the gun barrel stabbed into his tender parts. “I don’t know—ow—Jesus—”

  Vance jammed him harder into the wall and whispered in his ear. “You don’t know how to treat a lady. I think this”— she jerked the gun barrel into him again and smiled in satisfaction when he whimpered—“might be getting in the way of your social skills.” She saw Mae’s face, battered and bruised. Saw the marks on her arms and imagined the stinking weight of Hanrahan’s body pinning her down. She took a breath, savoring the moment. “So I’m going to relieve you of it.”

  Hanrahan pleaded. “Jesus, no.”

  “This is for Mae,” she whispered as she tightened her finger on the trigger.

  Jessie stepped away from the building
where she’d been standing in the dark for over an hour, waiting to back up Vance in case of trouble. In a conversational tone she said, “He hardly seems worth wasting good lead on.”

  “Everything’s fine here,” Vance said without looking around. “You go on.”

  “How you doing, Hanrahan?” Jessie continued as if Vance hadn’t spoken.

  “She’s crazy. Get her off me,” he said desperately, the stench of fear permeating the air around him.

  “It’s a big country out here,” Jessie said. “Lot of mining camps where a man could disappear to.”

  Vance said sharply, “Let it be.”

  “Now, if I were to see you around here after sunrise,” Jessie remarked, “I wouldn’t stop her from finishing it next time.”

  “I’ll go. I swear, I’ll go.” He tried to turn his head but in a move so fast even Vance couldn’t catch it, Jessie had her gun out and shoved underneath the edge of his jaw. She leaned close.

  “And if she doesn’t kill you, I will.”

  Jessie straightened. “Now, before you go there’s a few things we need to know.”

  He couldn’t answer their questions fast enough. As he scurried off, Vance holstered her Colt and leaned against the wall. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

  “You okay?” Jessie asked.

  “Mostly.”

  Jessie leaned back beside her. “No moon again. Dark as pitch out here.”

  “No one would have cared about him,” Vance said.

  “Nope. No one would’ve given it a second’s thought, even if they had heard a shot.”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me you think I would’ve regretted killing him, and you saved me from the guilt?”

  Jessie laughed. “Not by a long shot. Hell, I wanted to do it myself.”

  “So why’d you stop me?”

  “He might not have been able to tell us what we wanted to know if he was bleeding all over the ground.”

  “Forgot about that.”

  Jessie turned her head, just able to make out Vance’s features in the near-total darkness. “Besides, that’s not what’s going to fix Mae’s situation. And it might be even easier the next time.”

  “There’s not going to be a next time.” Vance rubbed her aching shoulder. “I’m going to see that Mae has the one thing that really matters to her.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Her independence.”

  Taking care not to hit the area of the injury, Jessie patted Vance’s back. “You’re almost right. But I expect you’ll figure that out in time.”

  *

  When Mae let Vance into her room after closing, she put her arms around Vance’s neck and held her close. She kissed her gently. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “No. But he’s gone, and he won’t bother you again.”

  “Thank you.”

  Vance took Mae’s hand and walked with her toward the bed. “I’m not done yet. I have one more visit to make in the morning, and then this will be over.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Tomorrow.” Vance pulled Mae down beside her on the bed and buried her face in the curve of Mae’s neck. “Right now, the only thing I want is you.”

  Mae opened her dressing gown and drew Vance’s hand inside. “Then that’s what you shall have.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Charles Mason came out of his office with his hand extended and an ingratiating smile. “Dr. Phelps. Mrs. Wainwright tells me that you’re in need of assistance.”

  “Thank you for seeing me so quickly,” Vance said, shaking his hand. “It’s a private business matter that I thought you would be best suited to handle.”

  “Of course. Of course. I’m always happy to work with a new client of the bank.” He swept his arm toward his office. “Please. Do come in.”

  Vance followed him into his office and took the chair he indicated across from his desk. She reached into the inner pocket of her new frock coat, the more formal of the two that Mae had insisted she have made, and drew out a sheaf of papers. Together with the starched white shirt, waistcoat, and trousers, she was attired as well as any wealthy businessman would have been. She took her time arranging the documents, aware that Mason was regarding her avidly. With a smile, she passed the papers across the desk. “As you can see, although I’ve been in town quite some time, I haven’t had an opportunity to transfer my funds from the bank in Philadelphia. I’d like you to see to that.”

  “I’m sure we can take care of that for…”

  Mason’s voice trailed off as he studied the account summaries. He straightened, his expression bordering on obsequious. “I’ll handle this personally.” He fiddled with his tie, glanced down at the paperwork one more time, then back at Vance. “I’m sure our community will benefit greatly from your presence, Dr. Phelps. If there’s anything that I can do to help you get settled…anything at all—”

  “That’s very kind,” Vance said neutrally. “Your wife and daughter have been most gracious in arranging a small gathering for me tomorrow at your home. I certainly appreciate their kindness.”

  “Merely a small gesture, one neighbor to another,” he said.

  Vance doubted that he had any idea that the soirée was planned. She didn’t imagine that the social calendar of his wife and daughter was something he paid much attention to, but she nodded in agreement. Then, as if in afterthought, she said, “Actually, there is one more matter that you can assist me with.”

  “Certainly.”

  “I’d like to purchase some property.”

  “I’d be more than happy to act as your agent in that matter,” Mason said quickly. “If you will just provide me with the details, I can facilitate—”

  “Oh, I think it’s something we can finalize right now.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I want you to sell me the Golden Nugget.” She reached into her coat and withdrew the final sheet of paper and passed it across the desk. “A simple transfer of the deed should be all that is required. Shall we say for the sum of one hundred dollars?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Mason said, his face and neck growing red above the collar of his shirt.

  “Really? Michael Hanrahan informed me last evening that you were the owner of the Golden Nugget.”

  “He was mistaken,” Mason said flatly. He shuffled papers together, stacked them on the corner of his desk, and rose. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll initiate the transfer of those funds for you.”

  Vance crossed her legs and settled more comfortably into her chair. “If Mr. Hanrahan was lying, then he was protecting someone else at your expense. Who might that be?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea.”

  “Well, I can probably clear up the misunderstanding easily enough.” Vance stood. “I’ve always found that the wives of powerful men know far more than they ever let on.” She laughed. “I know that was certainly true for my mother. My father was often quite dense about the motives of other men who sought to take advantage of his largesse and trusting nature, but my mother…my mother always knew and saw that he didn’t entangle himself in difficult situations. I daresay your wife will know who harbors some ill will toward you.”

  “Certainly you wouldn’t involve a lady in such unsavory business,” Mason blustered, although there was a look of panic around his eyes.

  Vance took a step closer to the desk and leaned forward, resting her hand in the center of his blotter. “Why should you think that I would value the sensibilities of your women any more than you value those of mine?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do,” Vance said, her unwavering gaze boring into his until he looked uneasily away. “You have a special arrangement with one of the women at the Nugget. You pay her for your pleasure and for that of your friends. You think if you come and go by the back stairs and have someone else do you
r dirty work that everyone will look the other way.” She straightened. “Well, I won’t. Sign the bill of sale or I will make my inquiries so public that within a week everyone will know of your personal association with the Nugget.”

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. After a moment, he nodded and picked up the bill of sale in a trembling hand. He began to read it over, then stopped with a surprised grunt and looked at Vance in astonishment. “This isn’t your name on the bill of sale.”

  “No,” Vance said as she sat down and began to write the draft for the purchase price. “It isn’t.”

  *

  Mae leaned against Vance in the buggy as they headed toward the Rising Star. “You look mighty fine in those new clothes.”

  Vance chuckled. “You’d better like them, since they were all your doing.”

  “A lot has to do with the body that’s in them.” Mae stroked Vance’s cheek. “You are what’s fine.”

  “Are you trying to flatter me into telling you what I’ve been up to?”

  “Yes, even though it happens to be the truth and you do look handsome as all get out.” Mae laughed. “I just don’t think it’s fair for you to make me wait until we get all the way out to the ranch.”

  “Truth be told, I don’t want to wait either,” Vance confessed. “Reach into my inside coat pocket and take out that paper.”

  “I’ll take pity on you and not touch anything else along the way.” Nevertheless, Mae indulged herself with a brief caress, stroking Vance’s chest as she drew out the paper. Smiling at Vance’s quick intake of breath, she unfolded the document and began to read. Then she gasped. “I…is this…how did you…oh my.”

  Vance grinned. “You are now one of the most influential business owners in New Hope.” She slowed the rig so she could savor Mae’s look of astonishment and pleasure. “You’ll never have to worry about what anyone might do to you or your girls again.”

  “My Lord, Vance. I own it?”

  “You do.”

  “But how?”

  Vance told her, enjoying Mae’s satisfied snort as she described Mason’s discomfort. “And before you say it’s too much for you to accept, I did it as much for my peace of mind as your safety.”