He was so furious with her he could barely speak, yet he couldn't help but notice she didn't look the least bit guilty or contrite. She didn't appear to be at all worried either.
"Care to explain, Genevieve?"
She folded her arms across her waist. "I didn't steal Ezekiel's money."
He glanced down at the pile and back up at her. The evidence was damning.
"Adam?"
"What?"
"You will believe me."
Chapter Ten
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From the moment he'd met her, she'd done nothing but lie—or so it seemed—and there was absolutely no reason to believe she was telling the truth now. And yet he did believe her. He was either the most gullible man in the world or just plumb crazy. Regardless, he trusted her.
She wasn't a thief. Therefore, there had to be a logical explanation for why she just happened to have all that money with her, and just as soon as possible, he was going to sit her down and demand that she tell him everything.
He didn't speak to her again until they made camp about twelve miles south of Gramby. He asked her to get a fire started while he backtracked to find out if they were being followed. By the time he returned to the campsite, she had the bedrolls laid out and a pot of coffee brewing over the flames.
She waited until after he had taken care of the horses and had eaten his supper to bring up the topic she was sure would give him indigestion.
"I don't think it's a good idea to keep the money in my satchel, because that's the first place Ezekiel will look for it."
"Hopefully he won't get close enough to look."
He glanced around the campsite. He remembered dropping the satchel next to the bedrolls, but it wasn't there now.
"What'd you do with the money?"
She pointed to a jagged boulder about twenty feet away from where she was seated. "I hid the satchel behind that rock under some bushes."
He dropped down beside her and added some twigs to the fire. She offered him an apple, and when he shook his head, she put it back in her lap.
"Could you tell if Ezekiel was following us or not?"
"No," he replied. "The clouds were already moving in. If he is, he's going to have a hell of a time seeing our tracks."
"Won't he see the smoke from our fire?"
"With all this mist? No, he won't see it."
"Why is it so damp here?"
"We're close to Juniper Falls," he replied. "Genevieve, what could you have been thinking, carrying all that money? My God, you left it in the stable with the horses."
"No one ever steals an old bedroll," she said. "It was safer there than in the saloon."
He was trying to keep his temper under control. "I think you'd better start explaining. If you didn't steal the money from Ezekiel, then where did you get it?"
"Oh, I stole the money from him all right."
His mouth dropped open. "You what?"
She put her hand on his knee in an attempt to calm him. "Don't get mad until you've heard everything. I did take the money from Ezekiel, but it never belonged to him. I guess you could say I stole from a thief. Yes, that's exactly what I did," she added with a nod.
"Start at the beginning and try to make sense."
"I just hate it when you snap orders at me like that."
"Start talking, Genevieve."
His impatience irritated her. She put the apple back in the burlap sack and folded her hands in her lap.
"I was duped, just like everyone else. I remember telling you that I attended the same church your mother had joined and that I sang in the choir," she said. "Once a year, on Palm Sunday, an assembly of preachers would join the congregation and one would be chosen by our preacher to give the sermon. On one such occasion, the Reverend Thomas Kerriman spoke. He was begging for our help and told us that he was going to lead a large group of families to Kansas to join a settlement there. The families were in a hard way, Adam. They didn't have money or clothes or food, but what they did have was a will to start over again and build a new life. Reverend Kerriman was their Moses."
"And was he like Ezekiel Jones?"
"Oh, no, he's the complete opposite. I knew Thomas before he became a preacher. We grew up together in the same parish, and I know for a fact that he's a good and decent man. He would never dupe anyone."
"So what happened?"
"Ezekiel was also in the congregation that day. He stepped forward and promised Kerriman that he had a sure way to help him. He pointed to the choir and said that if the members agreed, he would take us from town to town to sing, and all the donations would go to Kerriman's cause. He singled me out and said that my voice alone would guarantee large donations." She sounded ashamed.
"You have a beautiful voice, Genevieve," Adam remarked.
"Thank you," she replied. "My father used to tell me that God gives each one of us a special talent and it's up to us to decide if we will use that talent for good or evil. I didn't understand at the time what he meant. I do now."
"Because of Ezekiel?"
"No, because of me. I let him turn my head with all his compliments. I liked being singled out, Adam, and I started dreaming about fame and fortune. He easily drew me into his scheme. I was very full of myself back then, and Ezekiel fed my pride. I'm very ashamed of the person I became. I acted like a spoiled child," she added. "Fame went to my head, and before long the only friend I had left in the choir was Lottie."
"The woman who sent you the wire."
"Yes," she replied.
"So you went from town to town singing and collecting money."
"Yes," she said. "Ezekiel became more and more demanding. I was never allowed to go anywhere by myself or with my friend. He hired men to watch over me…"
"Lewis and Herman?"
She nodded. "Ezekiel told me they were there to protect me, but I was more afraid of them than the men they were protecting me from. I still stubbornly clung to my dream of being famous, and then something happened and I saw how shallow and empty my life was becoming."
"What happened?"
"My mother died and I didn't even know about it until two weeks after her funeral. We were singing in Birmingham, and one of her friends come all that way to tell me. I found out later that she had sent a wire to Ezekiel when my mother became ill, but he hid it from me. I will never forgive myself or him."
"If you didn't know—"
"I should have known," she whispered. "I should have gone home more often to see her, but I was so caught up in my own dreams I forgot what was the most important thing of all."
"Family."
"Yes, family."
"Would Ezekiel have let you leave?"
"No, but I could have found a way."
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. "What about your father?"
"He died a year before my mother."
He let out a sigh. "I understand why you want to go to Paris. Your grandfather's the only family left, isn't he?"
"I didn't exactly tell you the truth about my grandfather. He is in Paris…"
"But?"
"He died a long time ago. I'm going there to pay my respects."
"Why did you let me think he was alive?"
She glanced over at him. "If you had thought I was all alone in the world, you would have felt sorry for me, and I didn't want that to happen."
The tenderness in his eyes made her want to curl up in his lap and cling to him. She turned away, resisting the lure, and said, "Lots of people are alone, so stop looking at me like that. Now, do you want to hear the rest of this or not?"
"Yes, I want to hear the rest of it."
He was gently rubbing her arm. She never wanted him to stop, and as soon as that thought came into her mind, she pushed his hand away.
"When I heard my mother had died, I wanted to go home, and that's when Ezekiel started locking me in my room. I heard him tell Lewis I was his meal ticket. It was a horrible time. The shock of losing my m
other put everything in perspective. I knew I was chasing a fool's dream and didn't want fame or fortune. I kept thinking about my father and what he'd told me. I
could use my talent for good or bad. The choice was up to me. I made up my mind that I would only sing for money when it was absolutely necessary."
"You sang for money in the saloon."
"Yes, but I did so out of necessity, not vanity, and I only sang hymns. We needed money for food and shelter."
"You have almost five thousand dollars," he reminded her.
"But that isn't my money. It belongs to Reverend Kerriman and his families."
He nodded to let her know he understood. "Tell me how you managed to get the money away from Ezekiel."
"One afternoon when we were in New Orleans I was sitting in the garden of a lovely old church and I happened to see Thomas in the courtyard. He was talking to Ezekiel, and I could see how upset he was. Ezekiel wasn't upset though. He was laughing and mocking Thomas."
"Where was your guard?"
"Lewis was assigned to me that day. I let him lock me in my room, and then I snuck out."
"Through the window."
"Yes, I went out through the window and ran back to the courtyard. I heard Ezekiel boast that he had collected over four thousand dollars and that he wasn't going to give Thomas one cent."
"And what did Thomas do?"
"He threatened to go to the authorities, and Ezekiel went into a rage. He told him he'd kill him if he said a word to anyone. Thomas didn't believe him at first, but Ezekiel told him he'd killed before and he could kill again.
"Lewis and Herman started beating Thomas. He fell to the ground, and then Ezekiel kicked him over and over again. I was so terrified for him I couldn't even scream. I ran toward him to make them stop pounding him, but some other people got there first. Lewis and Herman ran. Ezekiel didn't run though. As arrogant as ever, he turned around and strolled back to the church."
"And that's when you decided to steal the money from him, isn't it?"
"Yes. I went to his room and found it right away under his mattress. The stupid man slept on it every night. I put it in a satchel, and then I left."
"To go to Rosehill?"
She shook her head. "Thomas was taken to the hospital, and I hid in New Orleans and waited for him to recover so I could give him the money. I didn't dare go and visit him because I was afraid of being spotted by Ezekiel's men, and when I finally got up enough courage to sneak in during the night, I found out he'd already left for Kansas."
"And that's where you're headed now, isn't it?"
"Yes," she answered. "When I left New Orleans, I was going to go directly to the settlement in Kansas, but then I started worrying about Ezekiel. He knew I had seen what he and his men had done to Thomas, and he had to have figured out why I took the money. I was afraid he would follow me, and I didn't like the idea of being ambushed along the way."
"So you came to Rosehill."
"I thought the ranch was a perfect place to hide for a little while, and I was so sure Ezekiel wouldn't follow me there."
"I wish to God you had told me all of this when we were in the library together."
"I didn't want you to get involved. It was my problem, and I had to take care of it. If I had confided in you, you would have insisted on taking the money to Thomas for me, which would have put you in danger. Isn't that so?"
"Yes," he agreed.
"I don't want anyone else to give Thomas the money. It's important to me that he know I wasn't involved in Ezekiel's scheme."
"I'm sure he already knows that."
"I also want to tell him how sorry I am, but I have to be realistic. Ezekiel isn't going to give up, is he?"
"No, he isn't," he said. "Five thousand dollars is worth his trouble."
"Will you promise me something?" She pushed his arm away and turned to face him. "If anything happens to me, or if we should get separated, will you take the money to Thomas?"
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
"Adam, the money's important to those people. It will buy food and clothes and peace of mind. Promise me," she demanded.
"I promise."
She bowed her head. "I can't imagine what you must think of me. I was so naive and stupid and vain and…"
He stopped her from berating herself by tilting her chin up and kissing her. His mouth brushed over hers in a gentle, undemanding caress.
"You're good-hearted," he whispered gruffly.
She pulled back. "I can't let you think that. I'm not good-hearted. If I hadn't been so full of myself, I would have seen through Ezekiel right away. I acted like a fool, but I've learned my lesson. Now do you understand why I've become so cynical?"
Because she was being so earnest, he didn't dare laugh. He couldn't contain his smile though. "I understand you might want to be cynical, but, sweetheart, you haven't quite mastered it yet. There isn't anything cynical about you. You're one of the most trusting souls I've ever met. You have a beautiful heart, Genevieve."
"You did it again," she whispered.
He was slowly pulling her onto his lap. She didn't resist and, in fact, put her arms around his neck.
She stared into his eyes and thought that he was the most amazingly perfect man in the whole world. How would she ever have the strength to leave him?
"What did I do?" he asked.
"You called me sweetheart," she told him in a breathless whisper. "You mustn't do that anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because I like it," she stammered. "And now you're going to kiss me again, aren't you? And you really shouldn't. When the time comes for us to go our separate ways, it's going to be very difficult for me, and if you keep kissing me, I'll end up miserable. I have to go to Paris, and you have to go back home. We should just be friends, shouldn't we? But, Adam, I think I really want you to kiss me now. Just one, last kiss, and then we…"
"Shake hands?" he suggested dryly.
"Yes, or you could give me a peck on the cheek, the way friends do."
She wanted friendship and nothing more? Didn't she understand they had gone way past that stage? Maybe it was his fault, he decided. He hadn't told her how he felt about her. He hadn't allowed himself to think about it, much less discuss it. He knew he cared for her, but as he did with everything else, he wanted to think about all the ramifications before he told her.
His voice was deceptively mild when he said, "I think you need to get something straight in your head. I don't kiss my friends, I don't peck my friends, and I sure as certain don't call my friends sweetheart."
"We can't become involved."
She really was an exasperating woman. "We are involved."
She looked miserable. "We're all wrong for each other. You do realize that, don't you? You want peace and quiet. I'm a troublemaker."
"No, you're not. You're aggravating and as stubborn as can be, but you aren't a troublemaker, and I'm definitely not your friend."
She was slowly pulling back from him. He wasn't about to let her get away. He jerked her hard against his chest, ignoring her startled cry of surprise. His hand cupped the back of her head, and as he was moving toward her, he whispered, "I never had a chance, did I?"
She didn't understand what he meant, and he was too busy kissing her to explain.
His mouth was warm and firm against hers. It wasn't a friendly kiss. He made sure of that. He coaxed her mouth open, and his tongue swept inside to mate with hers. She began to respond, timidly at first and then with growing passion. He melted away her inhibitions in a matter of heartbeats, and, Lord, she tasted as sweet and fresh as he remembered. He couldn't get enough of her. Passion flowed between them as his mouth slanted over hers again and again, and when at last he forced himself to pull back, he couldn't seem to draw a proper breath. Her own shortness of breath was music to his ears.
The hell he was her friend.
"Now do you want to shake my hand?" he asked, driving his point home.
Hi
s sarcasm was lost on her. She was blissfully content snuggled up against him. Her head rested in the crook of his neck and her eyes closed in sweet surrender to the moment.
He held her for a long while in his arms. His hands tenderly caressed her back, and all he wanted to think about was her soft body. Unfortunately, thoughts of Ezekiel Jones kept intruding.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Ezekiel Jones," he said.
"I knew it had to be something unpleasant. You're squeezing the breath out of me, and your muscles have become rigid."
He forced himself to relax and loosened his grip on her. "Is that better?"
"Yes," she answered. "I should probably get off your lap, but I don't want to move," she admitted. "I was also thinking about Ezekiel. Do you think he was telling the truth when he said he had gotten away with murder? Or was he just trying to scare us?"
"I think he was telling the truth, and I'd sure be interested in finding out the particulars. You told me Ezekiel changed his name. Do you know what his real name is?"
"Henry Stevens," she answered. "I heard Lewis call him by his full name once. Ezekiel became furious and threatened dire consequences if he ever called him by his real name again. The stupid man was yelling so loud most of the choir heard him."
Adam filed the information away. Henry Stevens. He wouldn't forget the name again. Had Ezekiel changed his name because he was a wanted man, or had the crime gone unreported? Adam decided to find out as soon as possible.
"When we get to Salt Lake City, I think I'd like to pay a visit to the marshal's office."
"I doubt anyone's there. Don't you remember Mr. Steeple told us that three U.S. marshals were in Middleton, investigating the bank robbery?"
The plan came to him all of a sudden, and he found himself smiling in anticipation. His idea was perfect, and if it worked, it would be well worth the risk. Ezekiel would get what was coming to him, and Adam wouldn't have to kill him. There were a lot of ifs involved. If he could find a safe place for Genevieve, and if he could trick Ezekiel into following him to
Middleton, and if the marshals were indeed there, then Adam would lead the bastard right into their hands.
"I think we should split up," she said.
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