Whoever this madman wants dead must be warned.
* * *
Sam Kline
Sam escorted the woman across the boarding house common room toward the stairs. He had secured a room for her not far from his, on the second floor.
The night clerk at the front desk called to him as they passed, “Marshal Kline? You received a telegram earlier. A runner for Western Union brought it by.” The clerk held out a brown envelope.
Sam detoured to the desk to pick it up. “Thank you.” He returned to the woman who waited by the foot of the stairs and gestured toward their rooms, envelope in hand. “Shall we go up?”
“Sam, I don't know why you asked me to come with you tonight.” She turned and mounted the stairs. “Watching you gamble is the most tedious thing I can imagine.”
“I couldn't leave you locked in your room, now, could I? I thought you'd enjoy the riverboat. There is more to do than just gamble.” He opened the door to her room and then shrugged. “Although, I didn't expect to run into Hunter tonight.”
“Is he the friend from the boat?” She tossed down her small handbag and rounded on Sam. “You didn't introduce me.
“Cat, you’re my sister. I am not going to introduce you to a man like Hunter.”
“That's ridiculous. You're a man like Hunter.” Cat stomped her foot. “You keep me cloistered like a nun.”
“I am not like Hunter.” Sam tapped the unopened envelope against his hand as he watched her cross the room to the pitcher and glasses. “Hunter claims bounties. The Marshal’s office has hired him, on occasion, because of his impressive tracking skills. That’s how I met him.”
Cat poured a glass of water. “How is hunting men different from what you do?”
Sam chuckled. “I'm a U.S. Marshal. I perform investigations for the government.”
She handed Sam the water glass. “Which sometimes includes bringing in fugitives.”
“True.” He slipped the envelope into his inside pocket and took the glass from his younger sister. He took a sip and decided to change the subject. “A finishing school would be perfect for you.” He unbuttoned his jacket and sat at the small table.
Cat sank into the other chair and regarded him over the rim of her glass. “Boarding school was bad enough.” She took a sip and set the glass on the table. “I'm not a child anymore, Sam, and I have no interest in finishing school.”
“But you've missed so much, Cat. Without a debut, you never had the chance to meet any nice young men your age—from good families.” Guilt weighed heavy on Sam's conscience. After the yellow fever outbreak took their parents in '67, he had been little more than an occasional visitor in his sister's life.
She waved it off. “I never wanted a debut and a nice young man my age. I want to be with you, to get to know you again.”
Sam searched her beautiful blue eyes and saw his mother's eyes. He shook his head, “I'm sorry Cat. I can't take you everywhere I need to go.”
“Maybe not all the time, but sometimes you can. I won't stay in a finishing school. Besides, I have skills you could put to good use.” Her mouth twisted in a suppressed smile.
“Skills?” He looked at her in confusion.
From beneath the fold of her skirt, she withdrew the brown envelope Sam had just put in his coat pocket.
His hand flew to his vest, then his gaze shot to hers in annoyance. “You learned this in boarding school?” He put his hand out for the envelope.
She lowered it into his palm. “Is this an assignment?”
Sam took the envelope and held it in his hand as he considered his sister. A lovely young woman of twenty, almost too old for a coming-out. She also held peculiar notions about what she wanted to do with her life. Perhaps it would be best to keep her under his watchful eye for a time.
Sam tapped the envelope against his palm and tore off the end. A puff of breath opened the pocket, and the telegram slid into his hand. He unfolded it and scanned the type. “This doesn’t seem too bad. I think you'll be able to come with me—this time.”
“What does it say?” Cat bounced forward trying to see the letter.
Sam folded the missive and put it back in the envelope. He began to return it to his pocket, but eyed his sister and changed his mind. Instead, he kept the envelope in his hand. “I have been asked to speak to a gentleman near Denver about some investments he made through a particular brokerage firm the Marshal's office intends to investigate.”
“Denver?” Cat breathed. “I've never been out of New Orleans.”
“I know.” Sam stood to take his leave. “You'll get to see quite a bit of the country. I'll make our travel arrangements in the morning. Get some rest.” He backed out of the room, envelope still in his hand, and closed the door.
“Lock the door, Cat.” Sam called from the hallway. He waited until he heard the bolt slide home before he turned toward his room.
Cat's laughing voice sounded through the door. “I'm going to Denver.”
Chapter 9
Nichole Harris
Nichole awoke before she opened her eyes. The scent of his warm skin beneath her cheek, and the steady beat of his heart, sent flutters from her stomach to her chest. Her eyes eased open, and her hand came into focus. Head on his shoulder, her relaxed fingers curled slightly on his chest as her palm rose and fell with each breath.
Merril.
She flattened her fingers and felt him tighten his arm around her shoulder in a gentle hug.
“Are you awake?” He kissed the top of her head.
“Hmm.” Nichole smiled. His morning voice was low and soft. She shivered as the flutters moved lower. “What time is it?”
“Early. No one's up.”
Nichole tilted her head to look into sleepy eyes. “I can't believe I'm here.”
“So you've said.” He trailed kisses along her brow and down the side of her face to her neck. “Where else would you be?”
“Mm—” Nichole murmured as he shifted her head to the pillow.
He rose above her, his weight supported by his forearms, and lowered his head to place a kiss on the center of her throat.
She pushed the hair back from his face and guided his mouth to her own.
His lips caressed her mouth and their tongues touched in a soft dance. Nichole moaned and arched against him. After a long, caressing kiss, he moved from her lips and trailed small, warm kisses from the corner of her mouth to her ear.
“I love you.” He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth then kissed the side of her ear.
“And I love you.” Why had she left her camisole and drawers on last night? Exhaustion seemed a feeble excuse now that her undergarments were between her and his naked chest. She scratched her nails gently across his back and chuckled as gooseflesh rose along his shoulders.
He tasted her neck once more then lifted his weight to his elbows. His eyes, shadowed in the morning light, stared down into her own.
“What?” She pushed his hair behind his ears and tried to pull him back to her, but he resisted.
“I made a mistake a few years ago, after our first time together at the cabin.” He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “I thought you knew, or understood, I wanted us—wanted this—to be forever.”
Her hand lingered along his jaw. “It will be, Merril. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“But I didn’t tell you. I didn’t ask.” He whispered into her palm and kissed it again before he raised his gaze to hers. “Nichole Harris,” his voice steadied and filled with emotion, “would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He waited, braced above her, his gaze moved from one eye to the other.
Her throat constricted even as she grinned up at him. She managed a hoarse whisper, “Of course, I will.” Happiness trickled from the corner of her eyes through her hair to the pillow.
Merril lowered his head and his mouth touched her lips, sharing her breath. “I love you,” he whispered so soft only her lips felt it, then he covered her mouth with his own and tightened his arms around her.<
br />
Pounding on the back door startled them both.
Through their open window above the kitchen door, the sound of a single pair of boots scuffed against stone. “Get a move on, dang it all.”
In the room beneath them, a chair slid across the kitchen floor, and then they heard the door open.
“Kelly? What’re you doin' here?” Tom’s voice, hoarse with sleep.
“I came to get Merril. Is he here?” Kelly asked.
“Yeah, he's here. No one's up yet. Come on in, have a seat—” Tom's voice faded to muffled sounds through the floor as the back door shut.
“I need to get up, sweetheart.” Merril placed a quick kiss on Nichole's nose.
“And things were just getting good.” She smiled at the wide-eyed look he gave her as he sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Your cousin is across the hall.” He half-whispered and pointed at the wall, but his grin ticked up.
Nichole chuckled. “Rain-check, baby.”
“Rain-check?” He raised an eyebrow at her and reached for their clothes. Merril moved her skirt from the bedroom chair and set it at the foot of the bed, then shook out his denim trousers.
Nichole watched him dress with a possessive smile. His bandaged shoulder caught her attention. “How’s your shoulder?”
Merril rotated the joint and slipped on his shirt. “Stiff, but the bullet wound has healed. The bandage could come off.”
“Have Amy look at it.” Nichole sat up and pulled her skirt into her lap.
Jim's door opened, and his halting step disappeared down the stairs. The distinct sound of his low voice added to the muffled discourse in the kitchen.
The latch rattled on the door across the hall, and Amy's light tread hurried toward the stairs. Jason's heavier footsteps came to a slow stop outside Nichole and Merril’s door.
Merril paused buttoning his shirt and turned to Nichole. His half-grin grew wide, and he raised his eyebrow and tipped his head toward their door.
She pulled the blanket to her mouth and stifled a giggle. Instead of the knock she expected, Jason’s pace resumed and followed Amy's down the stairs.
As soon as Jason's footsteps faded, Merril resumed dressing. He buckled on his gun belt and tied the holster tight to his leg. “We should tell him we’re getting married. He feels responsible for your reputation.” He paused and looked up. “Whatever is left of it after this last week.”
Nichole shrugged. “Part of me understands his concerns, and the other half doesn’t care.” Nichole slipped from beneath the covers and pulled on her blouse and skirt. She ran the brush through her tangled curls to establish some order.
“Have you forgiven him for what he’s done?” Merril rested his hand on the doorknob and met her gaze.
“No. I’m angry he didn’t stop Renata and Kevin.” She braided her hair, but several strands escaped her fingers. “I'm more forgiving of his investment venture.” The braid disappeared, and she tied the whole wavy mess out of her face with a ribbon. “He knows what he did is wrong. He must have been desperate, and he did talk to us—my father and I—about his diversity scheme last year. I don’t think he intended to steal the money.”
Merril nodded. “He’s put himself over the barrel with the bank, no doubt about it.” Merril opened the door. “It’s damned hard to forgive him for hurting you, even though I know Renata had him hog-tied like she did us.” He motioned with his hand. “After you, sweetheart.”
Nichole tipped her head back and smiled at Merril as she passed under his arm.
He grinned back, patted her bottom, and followed her out of the room and down the stairs.
A fire burned in the stove and water steamed from a pot on the flat-top. Both went ignored. Jim and Jason sat at the table while Tom and Kelly stood nearby, eyes downcast and silent. Amy faced the window, her back to the room.
As Nichole stepped into the kitchen, the heavy atmosphere brought her to a halt, and her stomach dropped.
This is bad.
Merril stepped down beside her. “What happened? What's wrong?”
The men had looked up when Merril spoke, but Jason and Tom looked away again.
Kelly tried to speak, but no sound escaped his throat. He shook his head and stared at his boots.
“Merril, have a seat.” Jim used his foot to push a chair out from the table for Merril.
Merril stepped to the table and sat across from Jason, never taking his eyes from Jim.
“We've had some hard news from your ranch.” Jim began, then paused and shook his head. “I’m just gonna say it. Sometime yesterday morning, Kevin shot and killed Renata, then turned the gun on himself. I’m sorry.”
“Wh... What?” Merril’s brows drew together, and he leaned back, shaking his head. “Kevin’s—dead?” His gaze turned from Jim to Kelly. “Was anyone there? Do you know why, or what happened?”
Nichole placed her hand on Merril's shoulder, and he covered her hand with his own. She glanced back at Amy and their gazes met.
Did you know?
Amy shook her head, as though she could read Nichole’s thoughts.
Jason cleared his throat. “I stopped at The Shilo yesterday morning and spoke with Kevin.” Jason rubbed his unshaven face with his hand. “I wanted him to know Nicki had left The Highlands with Amy—and was beyond his reach.”
Nichole caught her breath.
Did Kevin kill himself because of me? Because I left?
Years ago, Kevin had seemed like an older brother, but since the accident—and his father’s death—he had changed.
This can’t be about me. Why kill Renata?
Merril looked to Jason. “How did he seem? What did he say?”
“He was drunk, and still drinking.” Jason shook his head and glanced at Nichole. “He hadn't been to bed or changed his clothes from the barbeque, as far as I could tell. I noticed his gun belt on your father's desk.” He looked down at the table. “Renata came to the library before I left, furious Nichole had ruined her plans. I didn't talk with her. I said my piece to Kevin and left. I could hear them argue as I rode away.” Jason’s raised his sorrow-filled gaze to Merril. “Kevin hadn't been himself since your father died.”
“Well, damn.” Merril leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. He covered his face with his hands. “That stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
Kelly shifted from one foot to the other. His voice was soft when he spoke. “Bill rode over from The Shilo with the news yesterday afternoon. He said Henny’s daughter heard your brother and Phil’s woman argue. Just before the gunshots, Kevin yelled that Renata had killed your pa.” Kelly paused and looked around the room. “Lloyd sent Bill to Kiowa Crossing to fetch Doc Johnson and told me to come here and find you.”
“This doesn’t make sense to me.” Merril scrubbed his face and sat back in the chair. “I need to get back to the ranch.” He stared at the coffee cup Amy set at his elbow.
“I’ll go with you.” Nichole ran a gentle hand across his shoulders.
Kevin and Renata both dead?
She cared for neither of them, but couldn’t imagine The Shilo without them.
Jason shook his head, his face pale but determined. He looked from Nichole to Merril. “Nicki stays here.”
“We’re going to be married.” Merril raised his head and looked at Jason.
Jason continued to shake his head. “Not today. Not before you need to leave.”
“There’s a Justice of the Peace on Park Avenue, just past the livery. I saw the sign as we rode in yesterday.” Amy set Jason's tea on the table and smiled when he looked up at her.
“We can stop there on our way out of town,” Nichole suggested.
I can only pack a few things.
She would need to leave her trunk here.
“None of the horses we rode yesterday have had enough rest,” Tom chimed in.
“Not all of us can leave today, anyway.” Amy looked from Tom to Jim. “Jim needs to heal a few more days before he gets back in the sad
dle.”
Jim nodded. “Tom should go with Merril and Nichole. Lloyd will need him. The rest of us can follow in a couple of days.”
“This marriage is a reckless decision,” Jason cut in, color returning to his face. “You shouldn’t marry on the heels of such devastating news. What’s the rush?”
“There’s no rush to marry, but I won’t be separated from Merril.” Nichole shrugged at Jason. “Besides, as far as we’re concerned, we’re already married. I told you last night.”
“You were outrageous last night.” Jason sputtered. Red crawled up his neck from his collar. “I excused your behavior for being distraught by my confessions. However, your compulsion to be disagreeable at each opportunity must cease.”
“You what? You excused my behavior?” Nichole blinked, then narrowed her eyes as she advanced on Jason. “I go where Merril goes, Jason. Period. I’m not asking for your permission.” She put her fists on her hips and glared at her cousin. Her voice dropped low. “My disagreeable behavior is no longer your concern.
Jason's face flushed dark. He looked from Nichole to Merril, then shook his head and looked down at the table, fists clenched beside his teacup.
Nichole’s voice softened. “I love you, Jason, but I’ll make my own decisions—outrageous or not.” Her arms fell to her side. “Accept this, please, and let's not fight about it anymore.”
Jim caught Nichole’s desperate glance and turned to The Highlands’ messenger. “Kelly, head over to the Justice and ask what time he could come by the house today.” When Kelly tipped his head, Jim looked across the room. “Tom, see if the livery can loan us three horses. I think most of the animals there are ours, but they stable some of their own.”
Jason looked up from the table and nodded at Jim. “In that case, Merril and I should take down what’s left of the front porch and talk to Albert about a mason.”
Amy nodded to her husband, then gave a soft smile to Nichole. “You and I need to find something for you to wear.”
Nichole tried to find a smile for Amy but turned instead to Merril, who sat silent, staring at his fists. She crouched by his chair and took his hands. They were cold. She remained quiet, and warmed his fingers with hers until he raised his gaze. “If this is too soon, I understand. We don't need to marry today. I will go with you to The Shilo, either way. We can marry later.”
Prophecy (Soul of the Witch Book 2) Page 6
