Although Annie had claimed to be fine, her skin had been ashen as they had ridden back, and she hadn’t spoken a word. Upon reaching the hotel, she had immediately gone upstairs to wash VanEste’s blood from her skin and change her clothing. Too worked up to sit down, he paced back and forth, waiting for her to return.
The sound of a light footfall behind him made him swerve suddenly and turn around. Annie stood in the doorway, dressed in a fresh pale-blue blouse and navy skirt. Her expression was both hesitant and wary, as though she were reluctant to enter and face him.
He didn’t blame her, but strode immediately to her side nonetheless. “Are you all right?” he asked, surveying her anxiously.
“Fine,” she answered, although a slight tremble filled her voice.
Jake led her to a settee and sat down beside her. “Annie,” he began, but she cut him off before he could finish.
“It was VanEste,” she said, staring at him as though desperate for him to finally believe her. “He killed the boys in the gang, then started his own gang, using Pete’s name and reputation. I know it sounds ridiculous, but—”
“Yes. We heard him.”
Naked relief filled her expression. “Thank God,” she said. A slight, wavering smile curved her lips. “I was afraid I would have to explain it all over again, and no one would believe me.”
“I should have listened to you sooner. It would have made things much easier on both of us.”
“What do you mean?”
Jake restlessly stood once again, determined to confess the multitude of his sins. Annie would undoubtedly order him out of her life once he did, but he had no choice. She deserved at least that much from him. He paced a bit more, collecting his thoughts, then began. “I was in a poker game about six months back and lost pretty badly. Harlan Becker, the man who had won, turned up dead. I suppose it was natural to assume that I had killed him.” He let out a sigh and turned toward her, meeting her eyes. “That’s why I gave Marshal Locke a false name. There’s a bounty on my head, Annie. I’m wanted for murder.”
She stared at him, clearly stunned. “Did you kill Becker?”
“No, but I had no way to prove it. All I knew was that Becker had been arguing with another man about money shortly before he died. The man Becker had been arguing with took off, heading north. I followed him and noticed that each town he stopped in was hit by the Mundy Gang within a matter of days. I became convinced that it was Pete Mundy I was following, but I couldn’t get close to the gang. That’s when I rode into Stony Gulch and saw you.”
“And you thought if you stuck by me, I’d lead you to the gang,” Annie surmised.
“Yes.”
“Congratulations,” she said hollowly. “Your plan seemed to be working, didn’t it? The gang followed us everywhere we went.”
“I tried to believe that was all a coincidence, Annie, that you weren’t part of the gang at all. Then I found this.” He set the crumbled note from Pete Mundy that he had found in her saddlebag on the table next to her.
She picked it up and read it, a mirthless smile curving her lips. “VanEste must have planted it, or had one of the men who was working for him do it.” She hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where did you find it?”
“It fell out of your saddlebag the morning we left Abundance.”
“I see. So that’s why…” Her voice trailed away as she put the pieces together in her head. That’s why he’d started acting like a complete son of a bitch, pulling away from her just when she needed him the most, he finished for her. Jake didn’t need her to speak to know what she was thinking.
Silence fell between them. She looked up at him, searching his eyes. “I wish you had showed it to me. I could have told you right then that it couldn’t possibly be from Pete.”
“I know.” Jake sighed. “You would have told me that Pete was dead, and he couldn’t have sent you a note.”
“No,” she answered slowly, “I would have told you that Pete couldn’t write. He never did learn how. The letters got all turned around and twisted up inside his head, and he was too embarrassed to ask for help. No one else ever knew. I did all the reading and writing for the gang.”
Unable to frame a suitable reply, Jake studied her profile. He remembered the first time he had seen her with her hat off, her head tilted back to soak up the warmth of the sun. He had thought her beautiful then. Now he reassessed that impression. Miss Annabel Lee Foster had been graced with more then just mere beauty. Her face was filled with strength and courage, daring and determination.
As he studied her, Jake realized with a start that it was senseless to try to memorize her face. Or to try to memorize her laugh or her walk or the stubborn way she tilted her chin. Remembering Annie wouldn’t be the problem. The problem would be spending the rest of his life trying to forget her, trying to tear her out of his heart. She had talked to him just last night about living with regrets. Losing Annie was one regret he was sure he would carry with him for the rest of his days. An aching emptiness, combined with an unutterable sense of loss, settled in his chest.
“So what happens to you now?” she asked. “Are you still a wanted man?”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so. Walter Pogue and his deputies trapped the men who had been posing as the Mundy Gang this morning. We also heard a great deal of what VanEste had been saying to you before he died. There’s probably enough evidence to tie VanEste to Becker and clear my name.”
“It’s all over then, isn’t it?” Annie said softly.
“Yes.”
She rose to her feet and walked to the window. She stared outside for a long moment, her features perfectly composed. “And everything that passed between us, Jake, that was nothing but a ruse, part of your plan to get me to lead you to the gang.”
Jake’s heart plummeted. “No. Annie, I swear that’s not true.” He was at her side in three swift strides. “I never meant to hurt you. If you believe nothing else I’ve said, please believe that.” He paused, taking a deep, ragged breath. “I tried to stay away from you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it, Annie, no matter how hard I tried. No matter what I believed you were doing, or who you were involved with.”
She turned to face him, her golden-brown eyes flooded with pain and confusion. “Why, Jake?”
“Because I fell in love with you,” he replied softly. “My beautiful Annabel Lee. I fell so out-of-my-mind in love with you I couldn’t think straight. All I knew was that I wanted to be with you, no matter what the cost, no bad how bad things looked.” It was a selfish confession, but one he couldn’t help but make. He stroked his finger lightly across her cheek, feeling as though his heart was being torn from his chest. He continued in a rough, husky whisper. “And I would give anything in the world to take everything back and change the way I acted, but I can’t do that. It’s too late now.”
He also knew, he thought bitterly, that it was too late to ask for her forgiveness. Annie had treated him as both a trusted friend and a cherished lover, she had risked her life for him, and he had rewarded her with nothing but callousness and mistrust.
“I’ll move out of my room tonight,” he offered stiffly, “if that’s what you’d like.”
“I think that’s for the best.”
Jake swallowed hard and nodded tightly. “Fine.”
Her eyes locked on his. “You can move your things into my room.”
He froze as disbelief coursed through him.
Annie’s eyes welled with tears as a crooked, trembling smile curved her lips. “You think you’re the only one who fell in love around here, mister?”
Jake let out a low groan and pulled her to him. “How would you feel about hiring somebody permanently to run that saloon of yours?”
Annie gave him a tight squeeze and let out a bubble of laughter. “Depends on who the fella is.”
“Anybody you like,” he answered breezily. “As long as he answers to the name of Jake Moran and acts like a complete jackass whenever he’s a
round you.”
“I know just the man.”
His lips slanted hungrily over hers, kissing her deeply and thoroughly, with all the passion and love he possessed. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless.
He grinned and ran his fingers through her silky hair.
“We’ll probably grow bored with each other within a year,” he teased.
Annie smiled. “I wouldn’t bet on it, mister.”
Jake squeezed her tightly against him, running his hands lovingly down her spine, as though memorizing every exquisite, beloved inch of her body. “Neither would I, darlin’. Neither would I.”
EPILOGUE
Annie smiled as she lifted her tiny son out of his crib. There was no question at all as to who had dressed him that morning. The chubby six-month-old with the silky black hair and brilliant blue eyes wore a ridiculously expensive custom-tailored ensemble that was an exact replica of his father’s. Although his clothing was all miniature, it was perfectly styled and stitched. He wore a formal black jacket, long black pants, a crisp white linen shirt — somewhat dampened by drool — and a narrow cobalt-blue string tie fastened securely beneath his chin.
“Look at you, Mr. Fancy-Pants,” Annie cooed, lifting him high above her head. “All dressed up and looking so handsome.”
The baby waved his tiny fists and gurgled with delight. He uttered a stream of infantile nonsense that made Annie’s heart swell with delight. She pressed him tightly against her chest and placed a soft kiss against his downy hair.
“You’re a smooth talker too, aren’t you? Just like your daddy.”
“You ready, Annie?” Jake asked, poking his head inside the nursery.
Annie nodded at her husband and smiled nervously, brushing her hands over the rich emerald of her gown.
His eyes moved slowly over her, his gaze filled with both tenderness and admiration. “You look beautiful, darlin’.”
“So do you.” She paused, lifting one dark-blond brow. “That outfit looks mighty familiar.”
Jake grinned and moved into the nursery. He brushed his lips against Annie’s, then planted a soft kiss on his son’s cheek. “I think he likes it too.”
“You’re ridiculous, Jake. He’ll outgrow those in less than a month.”
“Then we’ll buy him more. This is his first introduction to the general public, and I want to make sure he makes a good impression.” He lifted a tiny black Stetson from the crib and placed it on the baby’s head, then gently stuffed his son’s pudgy feet into a pair of ridiculously small high-heeled black cowboy boots.
Annie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. They made their way downstairs and through the hotel’s broad front door, stepping out into the brilliant June day. It had been exactly two years since Annie had arrived in Cooperton, and in that time, her life had changed completely. She had a husband she cherished, a baby son she adored, and she was surrounded by friends.
As she gazed through the crowd that had gathered for the official christening of the hotel and the party and dancing that followed, she was amazed and thrilled at the number of people who had turned out for the festivities. The mayor and his wife were there, along with the sheriff and a few of his deputies — one of whom was openly courting Jennie Mae and her tiny daughter.
She saw children laughing and playing in the front yard, swiping cookies from the long trestle tables that bulged with food. Groups of women chattered and gossiped, sending Annie a friendly wave as she passed. Dora, Carlotta, Francine, and Belle strolled through the crowd catching more than a few admiring glances from ranchers and miners in search of a wife. Cat haughtily swished her tail at the crowd and curled up in a tight ball on the porch, content to bask by herself in the sun.
Jake looped his hand around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. “You can look now, Annie.”
Annie turned her gaze away from her friends and back to the hotel. The walls were white and freshly painted, the shutters and doors sparkled a deep, rich green. A knot of colorful primrose bloomed in the window boxes. She took all that in at a glance, and one thing more.
Months ago, she had decided to change the name of the establishment from Foster’s Hotel to something else, but she hadn’t been able to make up her mind what she wanted to call it. Jake had volunteered to handle the chore. He had selected a name and ordered a brand-new, custom-made sign. But until now, he had refused to tell her what it was.
As the crowd watched, the painters proudly tossed off the sheet that had covered their work. The new sign glistened in the sunlight, sparkling with an abundance of rich, beautiful colors.
Her husband gave her waist another gentle squeeze, studying her face intently. “Do you like it, darlin’?”
She nodded tightly and reached for his hand, so full of joy she felt as though her heart would surely burst. “It’s perfect.”
Jake had named the hotel The Rainbow’s End.
About the Author
VICTORIA LYNNE is the author of five historical romance novels. She’s received two RITA Award nominations, and has consistently earned Romantic Times’ “Top Pick” award. Called “A Fabulous Storyteller!” by Rendezvous Magazine, her work consistently draws rave reviews and continues to attract new readers. Her books have been translated into German, Italian, and Spanish, and are currently available online through Kindle and Nook.
Ms. Lynne lives in Vermont with her husband and two children.
Chasing Rainbows Page 36
