She vowed she wouldn’t make comparisons and, ten seconds later, she did just that.
Edward was blond, neat, and always the height of fashion. He was polite and courteous to a fault. Luke was dark and handsome and provocative as sin. His hair was overly long, and his clothes were those of a cowboy, entirely out of place here. Yet when he walked into a room he had a commanding presence that made people turn and stare. She knew that firsthand.
She took another swallow of sherry to soothe her suddenly jumpy nerves.
Edward was everything a lady wanted in a man. Half the mothers in San Francisco were trying to tempt him with their daughters. Edward was considered quite a catch, and she understood that perfectly.
Oh, not that Rebecca thought of him that way, as a catch. She wasn’t interested in anyone. She had her life all nice and neat, and she liked it just fine. As soon as Andrew was home, they—
She finished off the sherry in one long swallow, putting her glass on the side table with a delicate clink.
“How did it happen?” Edward’s voice broke into her musings.
“I don’t honestly know. He was playing on the porch, and then he was gone.”
“I’m so sorry.” His expression was serious, grave.
“Thank you, Edward. I appreciate your concern, and your coming here at this late hour.”
“Anything for you, Rebecca.” He faced her fully. “You know that, don’t you?”
“You are a good friend, Edward.”
She’d known Edward ever since she’d married Nathan. He had been an occasional investor with Nathan, and had always been their friend. Why, it was Edward who had held the first party for them after they returned from their honeymoon.
Oh, she knew that since Nathan’s death Edward had wanted them to be more than friends. That was very apparent. He’d taken her to parties, the theater, anywhere she wanted to go, really.
She liked that. Edward was always the perfect gentleman. Unlike someone she could think of.
Unfortunately, thinking of that nameless someone made her fingers tremble and goose bumps skitter up her spine with a deliciously pleasant sensation. And the fact that it was so delicious annoyed her and, yes, frightened her a bit.
So she smiled, twisted in her seat and focused on her company. “I’m glad you’re here,” she told him, and was rewarded with a smile that had absolutely no effect on her pulse.
“Now, my dear, tell me everything that happened.”
They had known each other long enough that he’d taken to using an affectionate term occasionally, in private only.
Rebecca related the entire story—her search for Andrew, how she’d sent for the police, their efforts. Then she said, “Captain Brody is a difficult man, and I don’t think he would have helped me much if Marshal Scanlin hadn’t arrived.”
Edward paused, his drink halfway to his mouth. “Who?”
“Marshal Scanlin,” she repeated nonchalantly, not bothering to mention that he was sleeping upstairs, in the room next to hers.
“I assume you mean a U.S. marshal?” Edward said casually, and sipped his drink.
She nodded.
“What’s a marshal got to do with this? I mean, isn’t this Captain Brody’s jurisdiction?”
He took a large swallow of whiskey, draining the glass.
“True, but Edward, you know Brody. The man’s hostile, argumentative and, well, perhaps worse.”
“No, my dear,” he said in that patronizing tone that he used sometimes, the one that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. “You’ve got Amos all wrong. He’s been police captain quite a while, and he does a good job. He’s just not very good with people, especially ladies, is all. I’m sure he’s competent.”
Rebecca stared at him in open surprise. “I know you and Brody are old friends, but surely you realize that we’ve been at odds for months. I’ve told you that there is every indication that he’s taking bribes, looking the other way for gambling and...and women and who knows what else!” She made an impatient gesture.
“Rebecca, I don’t know how you can say that.” He shook his head adamantly. “You’re treading on dangerous ground. It’s a miracle you haven’t been sued, or worse, with all these thinly veiled accusations in your paper. Fortunately, I’ve been able to persuade people that it’s all harmless, and that you’ll soon lose interest and move on.”
“I will not move on, as you put it. Crime is up, and anyone with half a brain can figure out why. And I don’t need you to defend me. I take care of myself.”
“Of course you can, dearest. Of course you can. It’s just that you’re so obsessed with this Barbary Coast business. Surely there are more important matters to write about than who was in a fight in some saloon.”
“Edward, how can you say that? This isn’t the Police Gazette I’m running, this is a respected newspaper,” she said proudly, “and it’s my job to expose crime and corruption wherever I find it.”
“What are you going to do, go down to the Barbary Coast and ask if anyone’s been giving money to Captain Brody?” he retorted sharply.
“Maybe I will,” she told him, ignoring his sarcasm.
“Rebecca!” His thin brows shot up. “I absolutely won’t allow it! You can’t possibly mean—”
“Oh, honestly, Edward. Don’t be such a...a...banker. Don’t carry on so.” She wisely decided against being too pointed and telling him his worrying was beginning to annoy her greatly.
He toyed with the gold charm that sparkled on his watch chain. She was braced for another lecture when he surprised her. “Now, Rebecca, your determination to find a story is admirable, of course. And I’m certain you think you’re doing good, but—”
He broke off and strolled to the piano, putting his empty glass down on the gleaming surface. “I’m sorry, my dear. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this. I’m only upsetting you. Please forgive my thoughtlessness. Come. Walk me to the door.”
As he picked up his hat, he said, “Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”
“No, nothing. Thank you, Edward.” She offered her hand, which he took. “Marshal Scanlin’s helping, and the police, too. There’s really nothing for you to do.”
She was reaching to open the door when, without a word, Edward kissed her—and not on the cheek this time.
Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Edward, what’s come over you?”
“I detest leaving you,” he said, and squeezed her hand. “If we were married, dearest Rebecca, I’d be here for you all the time. You wouldn’t have to go through this, or anything else, alone again.”
“Edward, surely you can’t expect me to think about marriage now?”
He pressed her hand against his heart in a gesture that was more dramatic than effective. “Why not? If we were married, I could hold you in my arms all through the night....”
“Edward! Please, remember yourself!” She pulled free of his grasp.
“You care for me, I know you do—”
“Yes, but—”
He tried to pull her to him again, and she braced both hands against his chest in denial, her fingers digging into smooth gabardine. “Edward, we’ve been friends for years.”
“Liking each other is important, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes, but...what about love?”
His blue eyes softened. “You know that I love you.”
She sighed. “Yes, but I don’t feel...I don’t think—”
“You will come to love me, in time, I’m certain,” he said. “We have the same interests, the same goals. It’s so much more than most have, starting out.”
“Edward,” she said firmly, easily pulling free of his touch and stepping out of his reach. “I can’t think now...not about this.”
“All right, Rebecca. I understand.” His tone contradicted his words. “It’s just that seeing you reminds me how wonderful it could be. Think of what we could do together, with you at my side. The Tinsdale name linked with min
e. I’m certain to be the next mayor.” He shrugged and smiled. “All you have to say is yes.”
Rebecca touched his arm affectionately, yet with regret, too. “You are the dearest man I know. You were my friend when Nathan died and I was so lost. Without you and Ruth, I couldn’t have managed. And I do care for you, but not—”
“Let’s put this conversation aside, and we’ll take it up later, after Andrew is home and everything is back to normal,” he interrupted. “You’ll see. Andrew will be home safely, and we will be together.”
With a light brush of his lips on her cheek, he left, closing the door with a gentle snap.
For a long moment, she stood there, staring at the smooth wood, wondering what the devil was wrong with her. Edward was dear. He was right when he said they were good together. And she was certain that Edward would follow his dream—perhaps even to the governor’s mansion and beyond.
What woman in her right mind wouldn’t dream of accompanying a man on such an exciting journey? She should be thrilled. Perhaps she should even love him. Trouble was, she didn’t.
She started up the stairs, then stopped abruptly. “How long have you been standing there?”
Luke stood on the landing. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the banister as if he owned the place, and her. He had an infuriatingly arrogant grin on his face. “So that’s the competition.”
He straightened. It was then that she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The man was half-naked, and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. It gave her heart a lurch. A warm blush popped out on her cheeks, like two rosebuds. She was staring right at his chest, and at the provocative curve of black hair that arched over each nipple, then plunged down his chest and disappeared into his waistband.
Her gaze flicked to his face. He had a wicked look in his eyes—hot enough to boil water.
Rebecca tore her gaze away, but stayed firmly rooted to the bottom stair. She wasn’t going up there now. Not now! And she wasn’t going to let him know that looking at him was turning her knees to oatmeal.
So, with as much firmness as she could muster, she said, “You don’t have any competition.”
His grin was immediate and devastating. “You’re right about that, Princess. I don’t, and thanks for the reassurance.”
Her temper shot up. Before she could object, Luke turned sharply on his heel and strode down the hallway. Still smiling, he went to bed, and this time he knew he’d sleep.
Chapter Five
Rebecca didn’t sleep well. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d last slept. Oh, she was sure she had dozed once or twice—the nightmares were proof of that. Even now, if she closed her eyes, the terrifying dreams would return—Andrew frightened, cowering, crying for her, while she struggled in vain to get to him.
With a sudden intake of breath, she surged to her feet and left her bedroom. Heart pounding, she marched down the hallway. With each firm step, she willed her fears under control.
Stay calm. Andrew needs you. He’ll be all right. Luke said so.
She stopped still, one hand steady against the smooth surface of the plastered wall near the closed door to his room. Abruptly she jerked her hand away.
His room. His promises. His plans.
What the devil was happening to her? Since when did Luke Scanlin matter so much to her? Since when did she need his word to make things right?
Since the moment he walked in here and looked at you with those devil black eyes of his.
No! You’re not doing this to me. Not again.
Curling her hand into a fist, she prepared to knock on his door.
She stopped.
What was she going to say? Don’t look at me in that way that makes my body pulse? Don’t talk to me in that low, caressing way that soothes and excites me at the same time? Don’t be so damnably tempting that for breathtaking moments I forget everything, including my son?
Guilt overcame fear, and she let her hand fall to her side, took an unsteady half step backward, then turned.
If he was right, and Andrew, her darling Andrew, had been kidnapped, then she was going to need him even more. She knew Brody wouldn’t do more than “keep an eye out,” which was as good as doing nothing at all. While she didn’t trust Luke with her heart, in some strange way she trusted him to do the job he’d set out to do. After all, he was a U.S. marshal.
She was trapped. To send Luke away could put Andrew’s life at risk. To let him stay could put all their lives at even greater risk.
One thing at a time, she told herself. Get Andrew back first, then deal with other...matters. She’d kept her secret from everyone, all this time. She would keep it forever. Feeling a little more confident, she went to check on Ruth.
“Are you awake?” she said softly as she peeked around the edge of the door.
“Come on in.” Ruth was propped up in the bed and had a breakfast tray balanced on her lap. She fussed with the ruffle on her bright yellow nightdress, then twisted her gray hair up into a bun.
“You’re looking better,” Rebecca said as she crossed the room to stop at her mother-in-law’s bedside. “There’s a little color in your cheeks. I was awfully worried yesterday.”
“I know, honey, and I am sorry.” Ruth shifted to a more comfortable position in the bed.
“Any pain today?”
“None,” she replied happily. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”
“A little,” Rebecca muttered, and sat on the edge of the bed, holding the tray to prevent spilling.
“Very little, would be my guess. Am I going to have to send for the doctor again?” Ruth’s tone was loving. “We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?”
“Yes. I think we are.” Rebecca smiled and covered Ruth’s hand with her own, her fingers tightening in a way that expressed the love and reassurance she felt. “When Andrew’s home, I’ll sleep.”
Ruth tossed back the coverlet and scooted toward the edge of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rebecca asked sternly.
“Lying around here isn’t going to find Andrew, and I—”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Rebecca yanked the covers free and gently nudged her back into bed. “There’ll be no repeats of yesterday. Besides...” She made a show of smoothing the quilt. “Luke—Marshal Scanlin—thinks that Brody is right. That Andrew has been kidnapped.”
Ruth stilled, surprise and fear reflected in her eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think...it’s true,” Rebecca returned in a barely heard whisper, and blinked hard against the tears that threatened.
Ruth squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “You know, in some strange way I actually feel better knowing—thinking—that. I mean, if all someone wants is money, then they can have it. They can have it all. I just want my only grandson back.”
“I know.” Rebecca sighed inwardly. She, too, hoped that Luke and Brody were right, that it was a kidnapping, that all someone wanted was money. It was a strange, perverted kind of hope, but it was all she had, and she clung to it. Because if that was true, then it meant that Andrew wasn’t dead. And Andrew couldn’t be dead. The pain would be too much to survive.
Glancing up, she saw Ruth watching her, her mother-in-law’s big brown eyes filled with concern. She forced a smile. “Why don’t I take that tray down and let you get a little more sleep?”
“Rebecca, we’ll get him back. At least you’ve got Marshal Scanlin.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean, I’ve got Marshal Scanlin?” Feeling suddenly edgy, she released Ruth’s hand and stood.
“Why, nothing, dear. I mean you’ve got someone you can count on to help you, to help us both.”
“Help us...yes.” She strolled over to the walnut dresser and fussed with the doily there.
“He seems a very passionate man...about his work, I mean.”
“Passionate” was an understatement, Rebecca thought. It was heaven in his arms, she remembered with a sudden racing of her heart. She need
ed to keep her feet firmly anchored to the ground. With as much nonchalance as she could muster, she said, “I suppose so. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a long time.”
“How long?”
“A little over seven years,” she returned vaguely. “Why?”
“Oh, just wondering.” Ruth gave a casual shrug. “I never knew any of your friends from before you married Nathan. Was the marshal a beau?”
“Certainly not!” Rebecca snapped quickly—maybe a little too quickly.
“I see.” Ruth looked into the distance. “He’s very handsome. There’s something about his eyes... I can certainly see how a woman would be attracted to him.”
“What woman?” Sudden apprehension inched up Rebecca’s spine.
“Oh, any woman.” Ruth’s tone was innocent. “I mean, he’s strong and dark, and much too charming. Oh, and exciting. After all, he earns his living in a dangerous profession. Almost like a knight, don’t you think?”
“No, I most certainly don’t think. He’s selfish and arrogant, and he acts like he—” Like he has a right to make love to me, she almost said. A lush feeling moved through her, low and warm, making her knees tremble a bit.
Good Lord, he’d been here a day, and it was as if all the years had not intervened. Well, she wasn’t going to give in to him. She wasn’t going to let him shatter her life again.
Her chin came up in a determined gesture, and it was then that she realized that Ruth was staring at her with unconcealed surprise.
“Marshal Scanlin is only here to help find Andrew. Then he’s leaving.” Rebecca’s tone was firm, as much for herself as for Ruth.
“I see,” Ruth muttered again, in a way that was making Rebecca both anxious and annoyed. Her temper was short after her confrontation with Luke last night, and she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him over the breakfast table this morning. She’d almost asked for a tray in her room, but that had felt too much like retreat, and that she refused to do.
Wanting to end this conversation, Rebecca crossed to the bed and picked up the tray. “I think I’ll take this down and get a cup of coffee for myself.” She was halfway to the door as she spoke. “Do you want anything else?”
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