by E. E. Burke
Would serve him right if she went back upstairs. She could spend a pleasant evening with her niece and nephew. They would run her ragged, but that would be more relaxing than staring at Sum over a steak and a glass of wine.
The handsome charmer continued to blast away at her resistance, and the terrible truth was, she actually looked forward to surrender. She’d gone mad since she’d started spending time with him, listening to his blarney. Trying to match him up with her friend, and feeling miserable about it, and then insulting Phoebe O’Connor, who was a very nice young lady, had made one thing clear—she couldn’t be Sum’s matchmaker. Just the thought of him being with another woman was enough to send her temper soaring.
Crossing over to the front window, Maggie peered across the street at his store. Through an open door, soft light from inside spilled across the snow. She watched for another moment, but Sum didn’t come outside. Had he forgotten something and gone back for it? Or had he gotten distracted filling Miss O’Connor’s order?
Devil take him…no, she didn’t really mean that. She didn’t want anyone else to have him, not old Scratch, not Miss O’Connor, not even Michael the Archangel.
David was wrong about what her parents would’ve advised. If she listened to her selfish heart, she would accept Sum’s proposal. Then where would that leave her? Pitted against her brother. Sum didn’t understand how this would tear her apart because he hadn’t been blessed with a close family. She longed to give him that, and more. If ever there was a man who needed her love, it was Gordon Sumner. But there could be no happiness for them if she had divided loyalties.
She squinted to read his name in shadowed letters on the large glass pane. Why couldn’t he have opened a livery or a hotel, anything except a mercantile? If he’d located his store across town, at least he wouldn’t be stealing her brother’s customers. In spite of it, she still longed to be Mrs. Sumner, Mrs. Maggie O’Brien Sumner.
Her stomach did a slow flip. O’Brien. Sumner. Together. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? That made perfect sense. Apart, they both struggled, but together, as business partners, they would be unbeatable. Of course, her hardheaded brother would resist partnering with a man he distrusted. Victoria had a more open mind and might be convinced, and then she could bring David around.
The idea gathered steam. Maggie got so excited thinking about the possibilities, she couldn’t wait to talk to Sum. If he agreed, they could plan for how best to approach Victoria and David. Although she’d have to give up her teaching job in Kansas City, a worthy project awaited her here, founding a children’s home where orphans could be cared for and schooled.
She unlocked the front door. Hugging her cloak, she raced across the street. Gas lamps along the sidewalk illuminated snowflakes twirling in the darkness above the bricked pavement. Her heart danced with them. If she could make a way for her and Sum to be together, it would be the best Christmas ever.
Maggie stepped onto the opposite sidewalk and raced through the open door. She halted, startled by a strange sight over by the register.
A massive, stoop-shouldered man held Sum by the neck and had a gun pointed at his head.
Terror surged through her. “No! Don’t shoot!”
At her cry, the huge man whirled around.
She didn’t think past her urgency to reach Sum, she didn’t think about anything except saving him when she started forward.
The gun flashed fire and smoke, and a loud retort burst in her ears. Something punched her chest. She staggered back, shocked and disbelieving. The blood in her veins turned to ice.
I’m shot. The terrifying thought flickered through her mind, drowned out by a loud roaring in her ears, which grew louder, deafening, even over a furious yell, which she assumed came from Sum. But she couldn’t see him. Darkness encroached on her vision.
Her knees buckled, and the last thing she heard was another gunshot.
Chapter 11
The bullet whizzed past Sum’s head, something on the shelves behind him crashed. He grabbed his revolver from beneath the counter and fired, but the bull lumbered past Maggie’s crumpled form and out the door. The hazy smoke of gunpowder hung in the air and the acrid smell.
“Maggie!” He rushed to her side, dropping to his knees beside her. His throat closed up like the man’s fingers were still around it, and fear compressed his lungs.
She lay sprawled on her back a few feet inside the door. It had happened so fast. She’d appeared out of nowhere, screamed and startled the robber, and the bastard had shot her.
Sum set his gun aside, cursing himself for not being fast enough. He leaned over and gently drew her hair away from her face. “Maggie? Sweetheart?”
Her eyes remained closed, her lashes forming black crescents against pale skin…too pale. Her lips had lost all color. His frantic gaze snapped onto a dark hole burned into her cloak, just left of center above her breast. He sucked in a sharp breath.
“God, no…” He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he unfastened her cloak. “Maggie…Maggie….” He chanted her name, as if saying it would vanquish the horror and she would open her eyes and smile at him and everything would be all right. His breath came in harsh, painful gasps. His heart felt like it might explode.
“Sum?” Her voice came out small, tremulous, lashes fluttered and a bewildered gaze met his. Relief deflated the balloon inside his chest. If she could talk, that meant it wasn’t as bad as he thought.
“Be still.” He tried to smile to reassure her. “You’ll be all right. Just let me take a look.”
Being as gentle as possible, he peeled back the cloak, his gut knotted with fear, anticipating seeing blood soaking her clothes. Her frightened gaze remained on his face as if looking at him gave her courage. For her sake, he would be strong.
The bullet had lodged in the center of the gold watch she kept pinned to her bodice.
He stared in disbelief, released his pent-up terror in a heavy gust. “Thank God.”
“How…how bad is it?” She struggled to get up on her elbows, bending her neck to look.
“You’re all right, sweetheart.” He gathered her in his arms, cradling her close, giddy with relief, almost laughing. The shock from being shot must’ve caused her to swoon. “You’re not hurt. The watch stopped the bullet.”
“My mother’s watch?” Her anxiousness seemed to increase as she reached for the broken piece of jewelry and fumbled, trying to unpin it.
“Here, let me…” Removing the watch from the pin, he handed it to her.
She stared at the ruined timepiece, her expression turning to disbelief. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Delayed reaction, perhaps. Gratitude. God knows he wanted to kiss the thing, preserve it as a relic, a miracle.
He fished a fresh handkerchief from his vest pocket. She shook her head when he tried to give it to her. “I already have one of yours, thank you.”
“Do you have it with you?”
She sniffed. “No.”
“Then take this one and you’ll have two.” He gently dried the tears from her cheeks and tucked the handkerchief into her hand.
She reached for the bonnet, which had been knocked askew when she fell. He helped her straighten it. Their eyes met and he saw his unspeakable fear reflected in her gaze. She turned into him and put her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “You-you’re all right?”
“I’m fine—” The words backed up in his throat. He hugged her close, vowing he would never again let anyone hurt her. He’d make sure she stayed safe, even if it killed him.
Gunshots came from outside, in rapid succession.
Sum tightened his hold instinctively, and reached for his revolver. The gunfire wasn’t too distant, maybe just down the street. The bull hadn’t gone far, and now he was causing further mayhem. No one could rest easy until the animal had been put down.
“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.” He tucked the gun into his waistband, and then pulled Maggie into a sitting position and helped her to her
feet. She still looked dazed.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Upstairs, you’ll be safe there while I check things out. Lock the door behind me.”
Thundering steps sounded outside on the walkway.
Alarmed, Sum thrust Maggie behind him and drew his gun.
Her brother burst into the store.
“Don’t shoot!” Before Sum could lower his gun, Maggie stepped between them.
His heart slammed to a stop, at the same time O’Brien jerked to a halt, eyes wide with surprise. Releasing a furious breath, Sum lowered the gun, and reached for her. “Damn it, Maggie! Stop putting yourself in harm’s way.”
Her brother’s gaze moved between them, confused. “Did you hear the gunshots? Mr. O’Connor came by, and some idiot dragged him off his horse and tried to kill him. I’ve never seen O’Connor use that gun he wears all the time. By God, he’s a crack shot, hit the madman right between the eyes when he charged…” O’Brien’s voice trailed off as he approached his sister. “Maggie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“The man he killed is the same one who tried to rob me, I suspect,” Sum hoped the bastard roasted in hell. “He shot Maggie. Her watch saved her.”
“Shot? Watch?” Her brother honed in on the hole torn in her cloak. Not surprisingly, he reacted with horror. “My God, Maggie. Are you all right?”
Lifting her hand, she opened her palm and showed him the ruined jewelry. “I’m sorry, Davy. The bullet, it-it broke Ma’s watch. That’s all we had left, and I…I…” The tears began to flow again.
So, her initial reaction hadn’t been one of gratitude. Sum couldn’t grasp her despair over the ruined heirloom. He’d never treasured anything as much as he treasured Maggie, and would give up any object, no matter how precious, to keep her safe.
O’Brien grasped his sister’s arm and pulled her into a tight embrace. His quick action jostled the ruined watch and it fell out of her hand, landing with a clunk on the floor. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, stroking her back as she clung to him, weeping. “Here now, Ma would be glad of it. She saved you, Mageen.”
His dark gaze shifted. When his eyes met Sum’s there was murder in them. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
A question Sum had asked himself over and over. He had no answer. No excuse. He bent down and picked up the watch. “Her mother did a better job of it, I’ll admit.
Maggie pulled back with a frown on her tear-streaked face. “David, don’t get angry with Sum. He didn’t have time to do anything. That horrid man had a gun on him when I came in—”
Sum refused to let her defend him. “I should’ve reacted faster. Had this watch not stopped the bullet, you’d be dead.”
With a dark look, O’Brien curled his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Come on, Maggie, we’re going home.”
She didn’t resist when he guided her toward the door. Sum remained where he stood. She twisted around, looking at him with longing in her eyes, as if she expected him to object to her leaving, or maybe she thought he’d follow.
He couldn’t do either because she didn’t belong to him. Moreover, he shouldn’t have put her into danger. His life was a disaster waiting to happen. Even if he could ensure her safety, he shouldn’t have reached so high. Maggie was an angel. He didn’t deserve an angel.
“Mr. O’Connor went for the sheriff. I imagine he’ll want a statement from you,” O’Brien said as they neared the threshold. His tone remained accusing, though his condemnation couldn’t hold a candle to the curses Sum had already piled on his own head.
Maggie tore away from her brother’s protective hold. “It was a robbery, David. Not Mr. Sumner’s fault.”
She thought so well of him, he hated to disappoint her. He wasn’t the man she thought he was, the honorable man he pretended to be. Feeling exposed, Sum folded his arms across his chest, but then he forced them to drop. Confession didn’t come easy for someone who’d avoided it for so long, but it was time he came clean.
“No, Maggie, your brother’s right to be worried. It’s my fault that man was here. I owe money to a creditor back east. He’s not a very patient man, nor is he a nice one. He’s sent his thugs after me before. I thought if I paid him part of the money, he’d give me time to come up with the rest. Looks like he’s tired of waiting. You need to stay away from me. It’s not safe.”
Disbelief flickered across her face, then sadness and finally disappointment.
Her eyes had been opened, and now she saw the selfish creature she’d allowed to crawl into her heart. Hopefully, she would expel him quickly and get on with her life.
* * *
After Maggie’s brother took her home, Sum went to find the sheriff and provide his account of the shooting. The dead man had nothing to say for himself.
Mr. O’Connor reported that he didn’t have much choice but to the kill the bastard when the other man stole his horse, took a shot at him and tried to run him over. Any jury would agree on self-defense, so the sheriff didn’t bother to bring charges. The lawman did question Sum at length after learning the unidentified man might be a debt collector.
Two hours later, Sum returned to his store, numb with fatigue, yet not so numb he couldn’t feel the heavy press of emotion. He’d slipped Maggie’s ruined watch into his pocket, after showing it to the sheriff, who’d shaken his head in disbelief.
Sum retrieved the watch to look at it again. It broke his heart to know she mourned the heirloom. He didn’t think it could be fixed, but he would ask the jeweler. If not, he would order one that looked just like it. Somehow, he’d pay for it even if he had to sell his own watch. It was the least he could do, although nothing would make up for what had been taken from her.
He removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves and went to work to keep his mind off Maggie. During the exchange of gunfire, two bottles of Dr. Bradfield’s Female Remedy lined up on a shelf behind the counter had been shattered. He picked glass shards off the countertop and the floor, and then wiped up the sticky syrup. His shot at the misbegotten cur had sent a bullet into the doorframe. He pried the slug out of the wood and vowed to practice his aim so he wouldn’t miss the next time.
After putting things back in order, he went upstairs. His apartment seemed emptier than usual, even though none of the furniture appeared to be missing. The regulator clock on the wall carried on with a rhythmic tick-tock. With nothing to occupy his mind, guilt rushed in.
Maggie had come within a hair’s breadth of being killed. He couldn’t have lived with that. Had she died, he would’ve turned his gun on himself. As it was, he might consider suicide as an option. Death would be preferable to living the rest of his life knowing he’d ruined hers.
For some reason, she’d come across the street looking for him. The anguish in her eyes as she left with her brother told him he had finally succeeded in tearing down her defenses. She cared for him, possibly loved him. Or had before he enlightened her to his true nature.
He’d wounded a beautiful soul, might as well have pulled the trigger on the gun that nearly killed her. Sinking onto the sofa, he braced his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. His throat ached, his eyes stung, and still, he couldn’t cry, even if it might help release pent-up grief, not to mention self-loathing.
He pressed his fingers against his eyes and rubbed. Pity wouldn’t help. If he harmed himself, Maggie would feel worse. The best thing would be to sell everything, repay his creditor and go somewhere far away. She’d be hurt, but eventually she would get over it and be better off without him hanging around, making her worry about him putting her brother out of business. More likely, the clever Irishman would put him out of business.
O’Brien had adjusted well to competition. He was a survivor. So was Maggie, even if she didn’t see it. She viewed her brother as responsible for what she’d accomplished. O’Brien might’ve footed the bill, but she had worked hard to reach her dreams. She’d been orphaned at a young age and might’ve remained dependent on her older brother, but she�
�d gone on to become a teacher; not only that, she’d taken up a cause and would see it through.
Maggie let nothing stand in her way.
Sum sat back. He stared at his fingers, surprised by the moisture. Tears? That was something new. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried. It might’ve been when he was four, the day his father informed him that his two older brothers had perished at Gettysburg. Far as he could recall, he hadn’t wept since then.
A noise came from downstairs, sounding like something had fallen.
Sum came to his feet, heart pounding. He reached for the gun he’d set on the side table. He had locked every door and checked twice, as was his habit. That meant someone had broken in, possibly through the back by the sound of it.
Could be the bull hadn’t been working alone and this was his partner or another collector. That made the most sense because being robbed twice in one night was about as likely as lightning striking repeatedly in the same place.
Taking care to remain quiet, Sum crept down the stairs leading to the storage area. He strained to see in the darkness. If someone was down there, he didn’t want to turn up the lights and make himself an easy target. Plus, he had the advantage of knowing where he’d put everything. As he placed his foot on the next riser and shifted his weight, the wood creaked.
Sum froze.
Scurrying sounds, like the fast movement of feet, came from the back. A window had been pried open, though it didn’t look like the space was large enough to allow a man to crawl through, unless he was a small man. Whoever the intruder happened to be, it sounded like he was on the other side of that stack of boxes containing shoes. He’d be expecting someone at the base of the stairs.
Sum leapt over the railing and landed on the floor with a thud, then shoved the boxes on top of the cockroach crouched behind them.
“Ow!”
The voice sounded young. Whoever it was, he was buried beneath shoeboxes.
Sum slid the gas lever upwards. Light glowed from a lamp mounted to the crossbeams above his head. He cocked the hammer on his revolver. “Come out of there, and keep your hands where I can see them. I’ve got a gun and won’t hesitate to shoot your sorry ass.”
