by Craig, Emma
“Do they really?” Gabriel found this intelligence quite interesting and not altogether unwelcome.
“Balderdash,” Sophie announced, thereby soundly rejecting the cards, Juniper, and Gabriel with one word. She stalked over to the bed and laid Tybalt gently down on a quilt that looked as if it had been placed there specifically for him. The ugly pug dug wildly at the quilt for a second, pushed his squashy nose into it, flipped it up a little, crawled under it, and settled down to rest.
Gabriel was charmed. He also wasn’t surprised that Sophie had thrown himself, the cards, and Juniper out as if they meant nothing to her.
Neither, apparently, was Juniper, although she appeared saddened by her niece’s hard attitude. She rushed up to Gabriel and laid a placating hand on his sleeve. “Won’t you stay and have a cup of tea with us, Mr. Caine? I’m sure Sophie should thank you for your part in saving her from shooting Mr. Hardwick, but she can’t be made to be grateful for such things yet. You must give her time, because she’s been so grievously—”
“Juniper!”
Juniper jumped and squeaked at Sophie’s violent roar. She glanced accusingly at her niece. “I shan’t say anything you don’t want me to, Sophie.”
“Mr. Caine doesn’t need to know anything—not one, single, solitary thing—about me, Aunt Juniper. Thank you.” She yanked off her hat and, with a violent gesture, flung it on herbed. “He can stay for tea if he wants to,” she added grudgingly.
“Why, thank you, Sophie. What a pleasant invitation.”Although Gabriel was sorry, because Juniper began wringing her hands in agitation—she obviously didn’t care to listen to dissension—he couldn’t keep from sounding sarcastic.
Sophie whirled and pinned him with a glare. “It’s not an invitation. Juniper already issued the invitation. It’s merely resignation. I know blasted well you don’t want to leave yet. You want to stay and try to figure out what’s going on with me.”
“I’d say you’re on the money there,” Gabriel acknowledged mildly.
“Well, you can’t do it. However, since you’re a man and as obtuse and disobliging as most of the other men in the world, I expect you’ll have to find it out on your own.”
And with that, she sailed out of the room once more. Gabriel started after her, worried that she’d try to find Hardwick and tackle him with her bare hands since Gabriel still held her gun, but Juniper forestalled him.
“Please don’t chase after her, Mr. Caine.” Her voice was small and sad. “I believe she’s only going to the washroom. She—she needs a little time to herself, I believe.” She gave him a ghost of her usually perky smile. “I’ll fix the tea.”
And, over a small portable burner that looked as if it had been traveling with the Madrigal entourage for fifty years or more, she did. She was right about Sophie, who returned in a few minutes, with her face looking pink and scrubbed.
Sophie was also right. Gabriel had thus far learned not one tiny thing that might give him a clue as to why she seemed determined to kill Ivo Hardwick, not even when she’d been in the throes of hysteria.
He perceived this job of his wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d first imagined. As he settled himself in a chair at Miss Juniper’s insistence, he mulled over this last point in his brain—and grinned.
Chapter Six
Gabriel and Juniper were sipping tea like two old and amicable cronies when Sophie slipped quietly into the hotel room. Damn and blast. She’d been hoping he’d have had the grace to leave before she got back. She ought to have known better. Gabriel Caine would never be so obliging.
Juniper jumped up. “Oh, Sophie, you’re back!”
Inane, but absolutely Juniperesque. Sophie quelled the urge to shout at her sweet, addled aunt who was so worried about her. Her smile felt tight and strained, but she managed it and said, “Yes, Aunt Juniper. I’m back.”
“Here’s cup of tea for you, dear.”
“Thank you very much.” She took the cup and saucer and was touched to see that Juniper had put a lump of sugar in it and placed a little teaspoon on the saucer. Normally, Sophie would take milk in her tea as well, but there wasn’t any in the hotel room. She gave Juniper what she hoped was a warm, thankful glance, knowing in her heart that Juniper didn’t deserve the agony Sophie was putting her through.
Since, however, Sophie would never, ever, for any reason, give up her quest for vengeance, she could only pray that Juniper wouldn’t be too badly bruised in the process. If she were, Sophie would leap that hurdle after she’d fulfilled her goal.
Gabriel, Sophie noticed, had risen from his chair like the gentleman he wasn’t, and was staring at her with overt curiosity. Damn him, the rude beast. She waved him back into his chair and avoided meeting his gaze as she walked with her cup of tea to the window. There she pulled the curtain aside and stared out into the dark night. What a miserable place Tucson was, to be sure.
In the light cast by what seemed at least a thousand kerosene lamps, she saw ghostly windmill blades whirring lazily in the almost-still night air. The scene was eerily akin to something out of one of her nastier nightmares: Barren, dusty, deserted, and ugly, as if all life had abandoned it and left it bereft.
No, Sophie amended. The street wasn’t quite deserted. Someone stumbled down the boardwalk, drunk, she presumed, and trying to get back home before he fell over and passed out. How disgusting some men could be without half trying.
She heard Gabriel clear his throat and anticipated a number of the things he might say. What he did say when he got around to it, therefore, came as no surprise to her.
“So, Sophie, why don’t you tell me why you were in such an all-fired rage to kill that poor man.”
“That poor man,” Sophie mocked, “is a murderer.”
“Yeah. I told you that myself. But I didn’t know you were after Ivo Hardwick, too.”
Shocked to hear the name of her mortal enemy on Gabriel’s lips, she whirled around, slopping tea out of her cup and into her saucer. Her teaspoon rattled against the china and sounded like a little bell. “How do you know his name?”
“Beg pardon?” He blinked at her.
“Did Dmitri tell you?”
He had sat at her gesture and now eyed her oddly, as if he were wondering if she’d gone loony. “I don’t rightly recall what Dmitri said. From what I gather, you left him alone in that saloon. When I encountered him, he was being harassed by three or four big bullies.”
Consternation piled itself on top of her surprise, and Sophie gasped.
“He what?”
With a nod, and looking mighty self-righteous about it, Gabriel said, “Yes, ma’am. I think you’d better arm the poor little guy if you expect to be abandoning him in very many more wild western saloons. This part of the country isn’t as meek and mild as where you’re from, I reckon.”
Ignoring his criticism, Sophie asked frantically, “Was he hurt?” She rushed over to Gabriel and would have grabbed him by the arm if she weren’t holding on to her teacup. “He didn’t look hurt. Did any of those beastly men hurt him?”
Somewhat irritably, Gabriel said, “No, he wasn’t hurt. But that wasn’t his fault. Or yours.”
Again ignoring his implications, Sophie pressed a hand to her galloping heart and realized the hand holding her cup and saucer shook like a leaf and that her teaspoon had dropped to the floor. There was now more tea in her saucer than in her cup. She set the cup on the dressing table with a clink and stooped to retrieve the spoon. “Oh, my goodness. I didn’t even think about any of those horrid men attacking Dmitri. You’re right. I should have given him a weapon.”
Gabriel snorted. “And did you think about them attacking you, pray tell?”
Taken aback, she stood, turned, and said, “Of course, not!”
Looking peeved now, Gabriel snapped, “Well, you should have. I don’t care how big and strong you think you are, or how much you think you can take care of yourself, if you ever have to face being attacked by several rowdy drunks, you’ll discov
er your mistake in a hurry.”
“Oh, dear,” Juniper murmured, pressing a hand to her cheek.
Sophie was furious. “Stop worrying my aunt, Gabriel Caine!”
“I’m not the one who’s worrying her. You’re doing that all on your own, with your harebrained schemes to kill that man.”
“Oh, dear, dear, dear.” Juniper lifted a cup to her lips with a trembling hand. Her face had drained of color, and she truly did look frightfully worried.
Sophie felt terrible. Turning again abruptly, she huffed, “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I made a mistake tonight. I should have armed Dmitri.” Eyeing Gabriel glacially from over her shoulder, she added, “I was well armed, and I know very well how to use my weapon.”
She was gratified to see Juniper nod slowly, as if acknowledging the justice of Sophie’s declaration. She was even more gratified when Juniper said in a quavering voice, “She’s been practicing for months with that awful little gun of hers, Mr. Caine.”
Gabriel didn’t seem the least bit mollified. “Hogwash.” He sucked in a breath and smiled apologetically at Juniper. “That is to say, I’m sure you’re correct about her practicing, Miss Juniper, but I still say Miss Sophie isn’t fit to be going head to head with drunken westerners.”
“Fiddlesticks. You’re just angry because I was able to defend myself without your help.”
Gabriel stood and Sophie was alarmed to see the angry look in his eyes. “That’s stupid. You may be able to aim and shoot a gun, Miss Sophie, but you’re nowhere near as tough as most of the men who live out here. Most of them are flat uncivilized, and very few of them have any scruples.”
That, Sophie reluctantly admitted to herself, was probably true. She wouldn’t say so for worlds. “Fiddlesticks,” she said again. Perceiving it as a weak response, she went on, “That may be true, but even the most immoral lout couldn’t withstand a bullet in the stomach. Even you have to acknowledge that much, Gabriel Caine.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse,” he said in a flat, hard voice. “What’s more, I want to know why you’re after Ivo Hardwick.”
A pain with which she was all too familiar stabbed Sophie in the heart. She glared at Gabriel. “That’s my business.”
Juniper tutted from her chair, and Sophie gave her a good hot scowl in case she might be tempted to tell Gabriel Sophie’s story. Juniper held up a placating hand and let it drop into her lap. She looked very forlorn. Sophie regretted her aunt’s unhappiness, but she couldn’t fix it.
“It’s my business too, dammit. I want to know what the hell you were doing, trying to kill Ivo Hardwick. I’m supposed to be taking him back to Abilene. I’ll be damned if I’ll let anybody kill him first.” He turned a guilty glance upon
Juniper. “Sorry, Miss Juniper. Your niece is driving me crazy, and I reckon my language suffered there for a minute.”
Sophie barely heard him apologize to her aunt. She was benumbed by his admission. After a stunned moment, she shrieked, “You what?”
He turned back to glare at her. “I’ve been hired to bring Ivo Hardwick back to Abilene, and that’s what I aim to do. I’m not going to let you kill him before I get at him.”
“You said you were after a man named Mac-something or other! You lied to us!”
Gabriel looked puzzled. Sophie thought for a moment he was pretending befuddlement, but the expression seemed so genuine, she gave up that reason for hating him—for the moment, at least. Less sure of herself, she said, “Well, you did.”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t have, because it isn’t so. The man who hired me is McAllister.” He snapped his fingers as, apparently, the old conversation returned to him. “That’s what it was. You asked who’d hired me.”
Absolutely positive again, Sophie snapped, “I did not. I asked whom you were after.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.”
“Then you remember it incorrectly. Anyhow, I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, but Sophie, I remember it, too. I believe you did ask who had hired him, dear.”
Sophie and Gabriel both turned to stare at Juniper, who tucked in her chin and appeared flustered at the attention.
For a second, Sophie wanted to holler at her aunt, then gave it up. Juniper never lied, so she and Gabriel both must have misunderstood her question way back there on the train. Drat. Sophie hated giving up a good outrage for the sake of the truth. Especially if it meant having to apologize to someone like Gabriel Caine. To the devil with apologies. She’d apologize to Juniper later.
Turning back to Gabriel, she said, “Well, I meant to ask who you were after.”
Gabriel shrugged, and Sophie wished she could pummel him with her fists. He was stronger than she, though—much to her regret—so she didn’t.
“Whatever you thought you asked, I’ve been hired to bring Ivo Hardwick back to stand trial in Abilene,” Gabriel said with a touch of asperity. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d leave him alive so I can do my job.”
Sophie sniffed. “That’s too bad, because if I can find him again, I’ll kill him.” She frowned ferociously. “And I’ll kill you, too, if you ever try to stop me again.”
“Sophie!” Juniper wailed.
“I will,” Sophie repeated stubbornly.
“Good God,” muttered Gabriel. “I think you really are crazy.”
“You may think what you like.”
“Oh, but Sophie, please, dear, rethink this awful thing you want to do,” Juniper cried from her seat. “It’s wrong to murder that man.”
“It’s not murder!” Sophie yelled, outraged. “It’s retribution. It’s exactly what the law should have done to him and didn’t!”
Juniper shook her head disconsolately. Gabriel stared at her, confounded.
Juniper said, “But it’s wrong, dear. It’s wrong for you to seek another’s death, no matter how much you feel you’re justified. Leave justice to God, Sophie. Please.”
“Fiddlesticks!” Sophie spat the word out as if it tasted bad.
Sadly, Juniper went on, “I know your faith has suffered because of—of everything.”
Sophie uttered a strangled noise and turned away from her aunt.
Because of everything. Yes. Because Ivo Hardwick murdered Joshua, Sophie’s life had been shattered.
“I know your grief, Sophie,” Juniper said. “And I know this course you’re following will lead to terrible sorrow for everyone if you succeed.”
Recovering her composure, Sophie asked sarcastically, “Did the cards tell you so?” Instantly she regretted it when her aunt flinched.
Blast! She was always hurting poor Juniper’s feelings, and Juniper didn’t deserve to be treated thus.
Sophie wished she could pick Tybalt up and cuddle him, but she wouldn’t give Gabriel Caine the satisfaction of knowing she needed cuddling. In a flash, a vision of Gabriel cuddling her entered her mind’s eye. She rejected it at once, but it left an odd, lonely, icy patch in her heart. Blast again.
Juniper sighed deeply. “I don’t need the cards to tell me that much, Sophie. It’s wrong, what you’re doing, and you know it as well as I do. And so does Mr. Caine.”
“It’s not wrong,” she said stuffily.
Juniper sighed again and gave up. Thank God, her aunt wasn’t a tenacious woman.
“I still want to know what you have against Hardwick, Sophie. He’s got a past as black as ink, and he’s wanted for manslaughter in the Indian Territory.”
Sophie felt her eyebrows arch. “Really? That hardly surprises me. He’s an evil man.”
“He is that,” concurred Gabriel. “And he’s also wanted for theft and worse in Texas. He shot Franklin McAllister, the man who hired me, and killed one of McAllister’s cowboys. McAllister, wants him to stand trial for it.”
“He’s done worse than that to me,” muttered Sophie, and she shot Juniper another warning glance just in case Juniper got any smart ideas. But Juniper knew better, and only looked sad and dejected as she sipped her tea.
Her heart went cold at the thought. Sophie would be burned at the stake and roast in hell before she’d allow anyone else to exact retribution for her. She had to do this herself. Ivo Hardwick had, in a moment of sublime indifference to everything that makes animals men, opened a huge, bloody wound in Sophie’s heart and ruined her life forever. She’d not allow any state, territory, Gabriel Caine, or anyone else to kill him for her. “I don’t want your help.” Her voice, she noticed, quivered with ice-cold passion.
“Oh, Sophie!” Juniper whispered pitifully. “Please don’t, dear.”
Sophie ignored her.
“But why?” Gabriel held his hands out in a gesture of despair. “Why, for God’s sake is killing him so important to you?”
“That’s my business.”
Another vision whacked her mind’s eye, this one of Gabriel holding her as she wept in that wretched, dirty alleyway, and she had to stiffen her nerves against it. She’d felt so good in Gabriel’s arms. Protected. Cared for.
Which was probably the stupidest thing she’d felt since she was an innocent child of sixteen and learned to her everlasting regret that the emotion of being protected and cared for by a man as handsome and appealing as he was an illusion. Such men were reared to torment women. It was a cruel illusion, what’s more, fostered by idiots and rammed down little girls’ throats before they were old and wise enough to know a lie when it stood before them in the all-too seductive flesh. Such a man could never be anything but a curse to Sophie Madrigal.
She was being an ass even thinking about being protected and cared for, and she despised herself for it. Staring Gabriel straight in his gorgeous brown eyes, she said, “I shan’t tell you why I plan to kill Ivo Hardwick, but you may rest assured that I will kill him, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Juniper moaned piteously.
Gabriel stared back at her for about ten seconds, shook his head, put his teacup down, and bade Juniper farewell for the night. He didn’t say another word to Sophie.
