Nate was gone, had lit out of here so fast you’d think the devil himself was on the Rev’s tail. Daniel Cash wasn’t one to get attached to people, but he’d miss Nate. They’d been through some bad times together. A few good times, too. Why the hell couldn’t he remember the good times?
He and Nate had ridden together for what seemed like forever, first with the others and then just the two of them. At the moment he felt strangely betrayed by Nate’s sudden departure.
Cash sipped at his whiskey and watched Jed and Hannah. They sat side by side at a table in the corner, backs to the wall and chairs as close together as possible. They were probably holding hands beneath the table. He withheld a disgusted snort.
Whatever problem the two of them might’ve had earlier in the day had apparently been resolved. Hannah was relaxed and happy and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, and Jed... Rough, crude, wild man Jedidiah Rourke had been tamed, and he didn’t even know it yet. What a shame. What a waste.
Since it was too early for the night’s crowd to have gathered, Cash sauntered over to their table and joined them. As he sat down across from the lovebirds, their conversation ceased. What had they been talking about?
“I hope you don’t mind if the...” He glared at Hannah. “What am I? The stupidest man on the planet or just in Texas? I don’t recall. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
The woman had the decency to blush. “I didn’t mean that,” she said. “Oh, I do hope you know that when I lost my temper the other day I was lashing out at Jed, not at you.”
He liked Hannah, as well as he could like any woman he’d never bed. She wasn’t gentle like Eden, one of the few women he could honestly say he admired, but Hannah had backbone and intelligence, fine qualities in a man. Fine qualities in a woman, too, he supposed, as long as she wasn’t his. He liked his own women submissive and no smarter than they had to be.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “All is forgiven.”
Yes, he was quite sure they were holding hands beneath the table. How disgustingly sweet.
“As a matter of fact,” he said, feeling contrary at the moment, “I’d like to offer you a job.”
Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “A job?”
He winked at her. “Every decent saloon needs a beguiling redhead in residence to make it complete. You can serve drinks, dance on the tables....” He shrugged his shoulders. “You can do whatever you damn well please.”
Jed’s agreeable air faded, and his clean-shaven jaw clenched. “You son of a bitch. I’ll...”
But Hannah smiled as she interrupted. “Cash is just kidding, isn’t that right? Why, he made it clear from the beginning that there would be no women in his saloon.” She glared at Cash with those intelligent eyes. “He’s just trying to rile you, Jed.”
“Jed riles easy,” Cash countered. “It’s not much of a challenge to get his hackles up.”
“Leave my hackles out of this,” Jed mumbled. But he didn’t curse, and he didn’t come across the table to do his best to kick Cash’s ass.
Nate was gone, Jed had been tamed, and nothing was as it should be. Cash grinned. But he had his saloon, by God. He took a quick glance around the rustic place. Yep, he was home.
* * *
A small crowd had gathered for the opening night of Rogue’s Palace. Cash, of course, who no longer seemed determined to pick a fight with Jed. Jed and Sullivan, sticking close and talking like good friends—or cordial brothers-in-law. And a group of locals. Hannah had spoken to several of the men during her investigation, but knew none of them well.
One of the Rock Creek residents in attendance was that skinny young man, Oliver Jennings. What would Bertie think of her fiancé spending his evenings in a place like this? Every now and then Oliver shot Hannah an anxious and curious glance, but he had not approached her to speak.
Hannah stood at the bar, the finest men of Rock Creek surrounding her. Still, she remained alone. If anyone approached with interest in their eyes, they were quickly and quietly warned away.
Jed, Cash, and Sullivan rarely spoke to her directly as the evening wore on. When her quarry arrived, she had to be prepared.
Virgil Wyndham came through the door at precisely nine o’clock, a half hour before the set time for the poker game Cash had invited him to join. The gambler looked around, liked what he saw, and took a seat. Hannah waited only a moment before heading his way.
“What’ll you have to drink?”
He looked her over lasciviously, all but licking his fat lips. When his wandering eyes landed at long last on her face, they widened in surprise.
“Miss Winters?”
She nodded and smiled.
“What are you doing”—he looked around suspiciously—“in this place?”
“One moment,” she said, cocking her head and then turning slowly away.
At the bar, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Jed glared at her with narrowed eyes; Cash lifted his eyebrows. Sullivan remained annoyingly stoic. How could she be afraid of what was to come when these men were watching and waiting to come to her aid?
She turned her back on them all and returned to Wyndham’s table. Unfortunately, she still didn’t have much of a plan. Gain his confidence and see where that took them. Was that a plan? Jed would likely think not.
She placed the glasses and bottle on the table, and Wyndham stood quickly, in what she imagined he thought a gentlemanly manner. He even pulled out a chair for her. She took the offered chair, and he reclaimed his seat directly across from her.
“What am I doing here?” she repeated, as Wyndham filled both glasses to the rim and placed one before her. “Cash needed help with his new business and I offered my assistance. It’s as simple as that.”
“When I met you on the stage, you didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would take a job as a saloon gal,” Wyndham said suspiciously.
Hannah smiled. “I’ve taken the advice St. Ambrose gave to St. Augustine. ‘Si fueris Romae, Romano vivito more.’ When in Rome,” she translated, “live as the Romans live.”
He lifted his glass to take a sip, easily accepting her explanation. “Wise advice.”
She lifted her own glass and smelled the whiskey as if she were afraid of it, as if she were having second thoughts. As if what was to come was her very first taste of whiskey.
“Oh, I really shouldn’t drink such strong spirits. I’m not at all accustomed to its inebriating effects.”
“But when in Rome,” he urged.
She straightened her spine, and Wyndham’s eyes immediately drifted down to the exposed swell of her breasts. “You’re right,” she said, lifting her glass and taking a small sip.
Hannah was more certain than ever that this was the man who had killed Clancy. Oily, unctuous, repulsive Virgil Wyndham. She could definitely see him plunging a knife into the heart of his lover’s husband. In spite of this certainty, she kept her smile in place.
After taking a few more sips of whiskey and listening intently to Virgil’s braggart tales of his current lucky streak, she leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “You’re so brave to go on with your life as if nothing has changed. Why, I still have nightmares about the day we were robbed,” she said, as if confiding a secret. “For a while I just wanted to get away from this awful place where such things happen.”
“I know what you mean,” Wyndham said with a nod of his head.
“But that harrowing incident made me realize that life is too short to waste a single minute,” she said, wide-eyed and innocent.
His eyes lit up, the cretin.
“Rock Creek is hardly the place to... to carouse.”
“Rock Creek, small and plain as it is, has its finer points,” the gambler revealed.
“Perhaps, but I have not been able to uncover them. Why do you stay here?” she asked, taking another sip of her whiskey, pretending it burned her throat, and fanning the air in front of her face. “I mean, a man such as yourself sur
ely has better things to do than to hang around this awful little town.”
“I have interests here,” he said lowly.
“Interests,” she repeated. “How fascinating.”
“What keeps you here?” he asked.
Hannah sighed. “My sister. You know her husband was accused of murder, and I tried desperately to clear him.” She threw her hands into the air. “And then the judge gives him a ridiculously light sentence, proving to me that my time and efforts were completely wasted.”
“I heard you and Jed Rourke were stepping out,” Wyndham said, his eyes boring into her.
Hannah took another drink and waved her hand dismissively. She wanted to be Wyndham’s confidante, his friend. She wanted him to trust her. Too much to hope for, she imagined, but what else did she have? “Jed? Oh, we did share a meal together once or twice, but I must tell you”—she did her best to act as if the little bit of whiskey she’d consumed was affecting her, already—“he’s a bit crude for my liking. I prefer a man who knows how to dress,” she said, taking in Wyndham’s atrocious checked jacket and bowler hat, the oddly yellowed shirt. “A man with a little”—she waved her hand in his direction—“style.”
Wyndham beamed. “Well, if you’re free this evening, I can skip the poker game and we can... find ourselves another, more private form of entertainment.”
Hannah smiled. “I’d love that, but you see I heard a little gossip about you, too. I heard you were seeing the widow Clancy. I am not the kind of lady who moves in on another woman’s man.” She brought her hand to her breast in mock horror.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked, no longer smiling and happy.
“Oh, around,” she said, waving her hand as if the subject meant nothing.
He reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jed move. She also saw Sullivan discretely hold him back. As long as Wyndham didn’t notice their interest, as long as he kept his focus on her, all would be well.
“Tell me something,” she whispered, looking the gambler in the eye. “Do you love her?”
He shook his head.
“I can see why a man would fall in love with Sylvia. She’s attractive, and... and she needs someone to take care of her. Someone strong and valiant.” She shook her head slowly. “From everything I’ve heard, the departed Reverend Maurice Clancy had been blessed with neither of those traits.”
“He was a jackass,” Wyndham breathed.
Hannah didn’t try to pull her hand from his, but leaned forward slightly. “He didn’t deserve her,” she whispered.
Wyndham shook his head.
“Is that why you killed him?” she asked in a confidential tone.
The gambler dropped her hand like he’d been burned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted indignantly.
She was right! Wyndham was about to panic. His eyes and the flush in his cheeks told everything. He’d been caught and he knew it.
“You loved Sylvia, so you killed her husband. I can understand that.” She batted her lashes in pure Sylvia fashion. “It’s actually very romantic.”
“You don’t understand anything,” he said lowly. “Sylvia? I didn’t love her. Most of the time I didn’t even like her.”
“But...” Hannah began.
Wyndham glared at her. “That bastard Clancy seduced my wife, years ago. We lived in Webberville, and Clancy used to... travel through on a regular basis. She confessed to me what had happened and asked me to forgive her, but I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t bear knowing he had touched her, that she had given herself to him, so I ran. I left Laura and our baby and I started a new life. By the time I came to my senses and decided to go home and try to make my marriage whole again in spite of what Clancy had done, it was too late. Laura was dead.”
“What happened?”
Wyndham’s lower lip trembled. “She caught pneumonia, and I wasn’t there to take care of her. A family had taken in my son and were raising him as their own. They weren’t living in Webberville anymore, so I couldn’t even see him. I didn’t know where Clancy was or I would have tracked him down and killed him then.”
Heavens, she could actually feel sympathy for Wyndham. He’d lost everything because of Clancy.
“A couple of years ago I came into Rock Creek purely by accident, and there he was.”
“So you’ve planned all this time to kill him?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not normally a violent man, Miss Winters. And what happened to me happened a long time ago. But when I saw Clancy I wanted to take his wife from him the way he took Laura from me. I wanted to take what was rightfully his and then rub his face in it.” His face softened, fell. “Sylvia was lonely, an easy conquest. I thought Clancy would care, but... he didn’t. I set it up a couple of times for him to catch us, but he never did. At least, I thought he didn’t. Turns out he liked to watch, too.”
“That’s terrible,” Hannah whispered.
“How do you hurt a man who has no heart?” he asked quietly. “I had decided there was no way I could hurt Clancy. I had almost... given up. But that morning I passed your sister, Rose, on the street. I’d seen her leave the rectory in a hurry, and she was so upset I knew something was wrong. I had come to town to see Sylvia, and... no, I didn’t love her, I didn’t like her, but I did care about her. I was afraid she might have been hurt.” The gambler swallowed hard as he remembered. “I went inside and found Clancy wounded, and without a second thought I took the knife out of his hand and finished the job.”
“Does Sylvia know?” Hannah whispered.
Wyndham shook his head. “No. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I had just arrived in Rock Creek, on a horse I had won in a Ranburne card game that time, instead of by stage, and no one knew I was here. I killed Clancy, then turned around and rode out of town.”
“Why did you come back?”
He grinned sadly. “I shouldn’t have. But I wondered if your sister saw me as she ran away from the rectory in tears. I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for a Rock Creek posse to show up with a length of rope. I worried for nothing. Your sister was so upset she didn’t remember anything.”
Hannah nodded. “She does remember, you know,” she said, almost feeling sorry for the man. “It came to her a few days ago.”
“I shouldn’t have come back and I definitely shouldn’t have stayed,” Wyndham said with a small, defeated laugh. “My curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to see how this hand would play out.”
“You really should tell the sheriff what happened,” Hannah advised. “Tell them everything, how he hurt you in the past, how you couldn’t control your anger.”
He shook his head in dismay and denial. “Miss Winters,” he said softly, “I’m sorry to say there’s a derringer pointed at you, beneath this table. We’re going to stand up and walk out of here, and you’re going to ride with me until we’re far enough away from town that I feel safe. Then I’ll let you go.”
“You won’t get away with it,” she whispered. “There are too many people here for one man to take on alone.”
“I’m not alone,” he said.
The other shooter. Of course he was not alone! “Who’s been helping you?” she asked. “Who was with you the day you tried to kill me?”
“My son,” Wyndham confessed. “I found him living outside Rock Creek with his new family a few years ago. He’s one of the reasons, the main reason, I continue to come here. And we weren’t trying to kill you that day. We just wanted you to... go away. To let things be. I thought we could scare you off. Oliver came with me that day to make sure I didn’t shoot you.”
“Oliver Jennings?” Her heart hitched.
Wyndham nodded his head. “Oliver wasn’t even three years old when Laura died. The family who took him in gave him their name, made him their own. He tries not to say so, but I know he thinks of them as his real family, and me as a... an embarrassment.” He pinned his eyes on her
s. “But he is my son and he will help me one more time. He’s going to be right disappointed to have to leave town with his pa. He’s taken quite a shine to Bertie.”
“He cares for her...”
“Enough talk,” Wyndham said, rising, keeping the derringer concealed by his long sleeve and the careful positioning of his hand. “Let’s get out of here. Don’t make a scene or call attention to us. As far as anyone watching is concerned, we’re just going out for a stroll.”
Hannah rose calmly, knowing there were a number of capable eyes on her at the moment She took a deep breath and headed for the door, Wyndham directly and too closely behind her.
“Miss Winters,” Jed called out blandly, just before she and Wyndham reached the door.
She turned about to face Jed as he lifted her cane and shawl high, one item in each hand. Their eyes met briefly, and while he was outwardly calm she could see the intensity there.
“You don’t want to leave without these.” He shook the shawl. “It’s chilly out tonight.” He rounded the bar, the offered items in hand. He looked perfectly calm, perfectly natural. One would never know that he was fully aware of what was happening.
Cash moved to a position by the door, fiddling with a cigar, and Sullivan crept up on the other side. Their movements were smooth and very well planned. She saw every easy move, but Wyndham’s eyes remained on Jed and Jed alone.
Jed draped the shawl over her shoulders, and held out the cane, offering it to her as if nothing were wrong.
He looked at her for a moment and then his eyes landed on the derringer, which was not quite so well concealed from his new vantage point. With a snap of the cane he continued to grasp, Jed lifted Wyndham’s arm and forced it aside so the derringer was no longer a threat to Hannah. With an expert twist of the cane, the derringer went flying out of the gambler’s hand.
Hannah stepped cautiously behind Jed, as he reached out and grabbed Wyndham by the arm.
Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4) Page 24
