“What the hell?” he roared, staring up at the group of men surrounding them.
Suzanna slowly opened her eyes, but kept quiet.
“For what?” Cole demanded, sliding her gently off him and helping her sit up.
“For stealing my bride, that’s what. I paid three hundred dollars for her and seeing she’s your woman now, I want my money back. Ain’t that fair, Mr. Jordon?”
“She’s not my woman,” Cole yelled, getting to his feet and extending a hand to Suzanna. “We fell asleep out here, is all. Nothing happened!”
“Don’t look like ‘nothin’ to me. ‘Sides when a man keeps a woman out all night, he ain’t got much choice ‘cept to marry her,” Jonathon continued, spitting a stream of tobacco juice off to his left.
“Marry her?”
“Yup. Now, there ain’t no love lost ‘tween me and Miz Jefferies here, but seeing as how I brought her out here, I figure I’m responsible for her and the way I see it, you just up and ruined her reputation. There ain’t a man in the territory who’ll have her now. Tell him that’s so, Mr. Jordon?”
“Well, I don’t know, but…”
“Gettin’ used goods when you know that’s what you’re gettin’ is one thing, but having the prize stole right out from under your nose is somethin’ else. Ain’t that right, Mr. Jor…”
“Now wait just a damn minute here,” Cole said, slapping his hat against his thigh. “If the lot of you are thinking to railroad me into marrying…”
“Well, Cole, you did keep her out all night, and you did sleep together,” Sam drawled with a grin. “As the marshal, you’re supposed to set a good example for the rest of the community. If you were Miss Jefferies’s father, you’d expect the marshal to accompany you to your door and you’d be toting a shotgun and a preacher.”
“Huh?” Cole looked at Suzanna, but she had her head down as though in shame, her hands clasped before her. For someone who’d been so full of sass last night, she was surprisingly quiet.
“I hate to say it, lad, but Sam’s right. I entrusted Miss Jefferies into your care last night and for whatever reason, you kept her out all night,” Duncan said sadly.
“But we…”
“I’m not sayin’ you did, but you’ll have a hard time convincing the residents of Seattle of that. You could even lose your job. Mrs. Jordon won’t take this lightly, son. Do you ken?”
“Oh, I ken, all right,” Cole snapped. “Because the rest of you have gone and got yourselves caught, you want me to follow right along. Well, I won’t do it! I don’t want a wife.”
Suzanna sniffed and brushed a hand across her cheek.
“Now don’t go getting all weepy, Suzie,” Cole sighed. “It’s nothing personal; it’s just that I have a dangerous job and a measly salary to boot. I couldn’t afford to keep you like you’ve been used to, and I have a stubborn streak that hell won’t hold.”
“Obviously,” Hugh remarked.
“Shut up, Hugh,” Cole stormed. “You’d do much better with Jonathon here,” he suggested kindly, turning toward Suzanna.
“I ain’t takin’ her now,” Jonathan said, spitting out another stream. “I got no use for used goods. I just want what money you owe me for her. I’m thinking of heading south and that three hundred dollars will give me a nice little stake. Besides, she’s a might to uppity for my tastes.”
“She’s not used goods, you son of a bitch. She’s a lady. The lowest whore is too good for you,” Cole hissed planting his fist in Jonathan’s face and knocking him out cold.
No one moved, not to help the injured man, nor to tackle Cole.
Shaking his hand, Cole turned back to Suzanna. Placing his hands on her shoulders he moved her in front of him and looked directly into her eyes.
“I want you to forget everything that jackass said,” he began. “I don’t have much, just a little house on the outskirts of town and a lousy job that pays peanuts, but I’d be proud to take you as my wife, Suzie. And it isn’t because these yahoos are trying to force me. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do.”
Suzanna studied his face but didn’t say a word.
“And we won’t be herded off to the preacher like a couple of criminals either,” he promised her. “You and I both know we didn’t do anything wrong but enjoy each other’s company and fall asleep looking at the stars.”
A few of the men snickered and he glared at them fiercely before turning back to Suzanna.
“We’ll have a proper wedding in a church. You can wear a pretty dress and carry flowers. What do you say?”
“I say bless you, Cole Hadley,” Suzanna whispered, wiping away a tear. “I’d be proud to be your wife.”
“There, you see,” Cole threatened, turning on the group. “Now take yourselves off and leave me and my intended alone. I’ll return your rig in a little while, Duncan, after I see Suzie home.”
“That’s fine, lad, fine. Congratulations,” Duncan offered, shaking Cole’s hand. “Come on, men, get him up and on his horse,” he instructed, indicating the man who was starting to come around. “I’d like to pay Reynolds the three hundred and send him on his way if it’s all right with you, Cole.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Cole replied. “I said this town doesn’t pay me what I’m worth, not that I’m a pauper. I’ll pay my own debts.”
“All right, I didn’t mean to offend you. We’ll be on our way,” he said, nodding at his men. “Stop by and see us soon, you and your new bride. I’m sure Tempest would love to have you both over for dinner.”
“Thanks. Come on, Suzie; let’s get this stuff picked up. Hurry along now, we need to get you home and fancied up so we can go into town and start making the arrangements. I want to show you the house too, in case there’s something you think we need,” Cole said, leading the horse down toward the brook for a drink.
“Are you always going to be this bossy?” Suzanna demanded with her hands on her hips as she stared after him.
“Most likely,” he replied, grinning as he walked away. “Want to make something of it?”
“I’d better wait until you feed me,” she hollered. “I wouldn’t want you to end up like poor Jonathan.”
She could hear him laughing all the way down the hill.
Effie dressed simply in a brown day dress and quietly descended the stairs. She could faintly hear Martha and Tempest as she directed the chef in rapid fire French. While she doubted the wisdom of her actions, she knew she might never get another opportunity. It was rare for all the men to be out of the house at the same time, and even rarer to have a few minutes alone without staff or one of the other women about.
Slipping into the study, she closed the door softly behind her. The gun cabinet was behind the desk and to the left. If anyone walked in on her, it would be hard to explain what she was doing, so she moved quickly. Halfway across the room, she heard the door open behind her and dropped to her knees beside a huge leather ottoman. Clasping her hands she bowed her head.
“Effie, are you unwell, ma petite?” Tempest asked with a worried frown.
“No, madam, I only thought I would like a few minutes alone to pray for Suzanna’s safe return,” she replied, not raising her head. “I feel terrible about what happened last night,” she continued in a sad whisper.
“Oh, my angel, you must not worry so,” Tempest crooned, hurrying to her side and pulling Effie’s head to her bosom as she patted her back. “I’m sure everything will be well. You must take all the time you need. I will make sure you are not disturbed.”
Risking a glance at Grace, Effie saw her roll her eyes and poked her tongue out in response.
“Thank you, madam,” Effie sniffed.
“You must call me, Ma Ma. Soon you will be my daughter, Oui? I had no idea you were so devout. Are you of the Catholic faith, my pet?” Tempest asked, releasing Effie from her embrace.
Effie nodded and made the sign of the cross.
“Magnifique, as am I. Maybe you will set a bon exemple for Sa
muel. Come, Grace, we must leave Effie to her prayers. Are you also Catholic?”
“No madam, unlike Effie,” Grace drawled sarcastically, giving Effie the eye. “I am Presbyterian. Effie is sort of a… half-breed.”
“A mix of religions? This I have not heard of,” Tempest said, a bit confused.
“Oh, it’s common in the East,” Grace assured her. “Of course, some things are the same in all religions, such as lying,” she added over her shoulder as they left the room.
Effie raised her eyes heavenward as soon as the door closed and whispered ‘sorry’ before making a genuine sign of the cross. Rushing to the cabinet, she took an assortment of items out of her pocket. She’d managed to collect a few things that might work, a bent fork, an oddly shaped nail she found in the barn and a broken cork screw, as well as one of her hair pins and a nail file. She also located a skeleton key in a kitchen drawer and filched that.
Careful not to damage the brass around the keyhole she got to work, trying each makeshift tool to no avail. Surprisingly, it was the skeleton key that worked and, of course, that was the last one she tried. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she opened the door and located her derringer in a small drawer. Her pistol was in plain sight, but she left it.
Sam was right. It really was too big for her to handle effectively and was best used for intimidation. Besides, it would surely be missed immediately if anyone bothered to look. Hiking up her skirt, she stuck the small gun in her garter and secured the cabinet. Pocketing her tools and the key, she left the room, making her way quietly up to her room with her head down and her hands folded.
Chapter Twelve
Breakfast was a lively affair with fifteen around the table as five of the lumberjacks accepted Tempest’s invitation.
“See, mon amour, did I not tell you all would be well,” she said with a smile as she passed a dish to Effie. “Your prayers have been answered.”
“Excuse me?” Sam asked, wiping his mouth.
“Grace and I found your sweet Effie on her knees in the study, praying for the safe return of Suzanna. You have chosen well, mon cher,” she praised. “Your fiancée is not only generous of spirit, but devout as well.”
Amelia choked and took a huge gulp of water.
“Yes, our Effie is quite a zealous Presby…”
“Catholic,” Grace interjected, kicking Amelia under the table.
“Ouch!”
“Oui,” Tempest added. “Grace tells me there is a religion in the East that is a mix of Catholic and Presby-Presby… oh, something,” Tempest continued.
Sam laughed out loud. Turning to Effie on his right, he looked at her speculatively.
“Euphemia, perhaps you’d care to share the details of this ‘new’ religion?”
“Sam, have you no manners at all?” Effie replied smoothly. “Mrs. Pettigrew always told us it was unwise to discuss either religion or politics at the table.”
“Your absolutely correct, Effie dear,” Grace added. “Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested, visibly relaxing. “When are you and Sam going to be married?”
“Excuse me, Grace, but I have one more question and then we will let the matter drop,” Sam said. “Why were you ‘praying’ in the study when you have your own room, which would have afforded you much more privacy for your um… devotions?” he asked suspiciously, narrowing his dark eyes.
“Well, I…”
“Perhaps she wanted to be downstairs, the better to hear any news more quickly?” Amelia suggested sweetly, ignoring her husband’s snort of disbelief.
“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Effie agreed, snatching the lifeline Amelia tossed to her. “I wanted to know as soon as dear Suzanna was found safe. Thank you, Amelia. You always know what I’m about.”
Effie watched Sam. Sam stared from one innocent expression to the next before he set down his napkin and rose.
“Excuse me for a moment, please,” he said as he walked swiftly from the room.
Smiling at the questioning faces around the table; Effie shrugged her shoulders and returned to picking at her food. Casual conversation had resumed a few minutes later when Sam returned and took his seat next to Effie.
“Where is it?” he hissed, his lips barely brushing his coffee cup.
“Where is what?”
“Your gun?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she whispered back, taking a bite of egg and looking at him with challenging eyes. Swallowing with difficulty she continued. “I haven’t seen my guns since the night I shot Horace and you stole them.”
“Praying one moment, lying the next,” he tsked, nonchalantly thrusting his big hand between her thighs under the table.
Effie snapped up straight in her chair with a gasp. The only thing protecting her modesty was the long tablecloth. His hand traveled over every inch of her thighs, feeling for her garters and actually snapping one against her skin, only to come back empty.
“Tell me where it is,” he demanded, smiling benevolently at her as she blushed. “Don’t make me bare your bottom and spank it out of you in front of our guests.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered back as her eyes traveled over the assorted guests.
“You’d like to think so wouldn’t you,” he replied, picking up her hand, kissing the back of it and refusing to let go.
Effie knew the only ones paying much attention to their exchange were Grace and Amelia who were staring at them intently. Martha was talking to Tempest about her upcoming marriage to Ethan and the men were discussing the goings on at the camps. Deciding to put a stop to his threats, she openly challenged him.
“Go ahead then,” she taunted with a saccharine smile. “I’d like to see all these big men teach you a thing or two regarding the treatment of women.”
“I’ve told you before, this isn’t Massachusetts, sweetheart. More than likely they’d cheer me on.”
“Are you telling me there isn’t a true gentleman in the whole of Washington territory?” she sneered.
“I’m sure there are,” Sam laughed. “Unfortunately for you, they are married to sweet little women who mind their manners and know how to behave properly. Present them with a gun toting troublemaker who tells enormous fibs to their mothers and they’ll likely see things the same way I do. Now where is your gun?”
“I repeat, I have no idea what you are referring too. As far as I know you locked up my guns in your cabinet,” she insisted.
“Where they stayed, safe and sound until this morning when you had your little prayer session,” he growled.
“Ma Ma,” Effie called. “Perhaps when you’ve finished you would show me your wedding dress? You said you thought it would fit me and Sam seems to be in quite a hurry to wed,” she cooed, stroking his cheek softly. The men chuckled, Sam’s embarrassed expression egging them on.
“Of course, ma petite; it is an exquisite dress and you would honor me if you wore it. I’m finished now. Come, ladies.”
“Thank you,” Effie said, smiling sweetly. “Is there anything else you wanted to say to me, Sam?” she asked.
Grasping her arm Sam pulled her to her feet and toward the front door.
“Euphemia will join you in a moment, Mother. We’ll just step out onto the porch for a breath of air.”
“I think I’ll join you,” Amelia said rising quickly. “I could use a bit of fresh air myself.”
“Me too,” Grace added putting her napkin down.
All the men rose.
“You two ladies will go with my Mother,” Hugh said firmly. “Allow Sam and Effie a moment alone. They appeared to be in deep discussion about something.”
“But, Hugh, I feel a bit faint,” Amelia lied, putting a hand to her forehead.
“Then we shall go home immediately,” he replied taking her arm.
“No, no, I’m sure it will pass,” she backtracked.
“I’m sure it will, and we will discuss lying later,” he whispered in her ear as he led her to the stai
rs. “Come along, Grace. I’m sure Martha and Mother could use some help unpacking the dress.”
*
“I hope you realize the only reason I didn’t spank you silly in there is because I don’t need half of Seattle discussing my wife’s backside,” Sam said as soon as they were alone. “Don’t think for one moment you pulled something over on me, little girl.”
“Oh, I thought it was because if you saw my naked backside you would be overcome with desire,” she mocked. “For all your talk of winning me over with my wanton need of you, showing me you’re the only man who can satisfy me, you haven’t made much progress. I don’t see why I should marry you at all if all I’m going to get are threats of spankings and empty promises of wild passion.”
“I’m overcome with desire all right, just of a different nature right now, and I fully intend to make you eat those words later,” he responded with an evil smile. “Right now, I want the gun you stole from the cabinet.”
“Well, even if I had it, I wouldn’t give it to you. It’s not possible to steal one’s own possession. In fact, it is you who stole it from me. As far as the other, I’m beginning to think you’re a one trick pony. Maybe one night of incredible passion is all we’re going to have after all. If so, I have no intention of tying myself to a man who is… um… all hat and no cattle,” she finished triumphantly having finally remembered how the saying went.
Instead of being angry as she intended, Sam laughed.
“Euphemia, you never cease to amaze me,” he cried, wiping his eyes. “I only have two things to say to that. One, I will have that gun, you can bet on it and two, you’d better bring some salt to your room tonight.”
“Whatever for?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Because you’re going to eat those words,” he informed her with a wicked smile. Opening the door, he bowed slightly as she swept past him in a snit.
*
The dress was a gorgeous creation of ivory satin embellished with blue crystals. It had a tulip hem, longer in back than in front, with short puffed sleeves and an empire waist. The fit was perfect, needing no alterations at all.
Effie Page 11
