Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set

by Julie Ortolon

  Tugging the metal stool beneath her, she leaned back and rested her head on the rolled-up towel. No matter what happened, she wasn’t leaving the bath for at least an hour.

  The soft airy hiss of the gas burner beneath the tub was her only company. An occasional drop of condensation fell from the cold iron faucet into the water with a quiet blip. The light scent of lavender, chamomile, and almond oil wafted from the bath. Goosebumps speckled her flesh, and her nipples puckered in the steamy air. She shivered with a soul-deep loneliness she’d felt since childhood.

  From the age of five, she’d spent most of her time alone with her books in a one-room shack behind the brothel. As she grew older, she’d played in the greenhouse surrounded by plants that became her only friends.

  At two o’clock each day, Faith and her mother and aunts had shared their main meal in the brothel kitchen—the only room Faith was allowed to enter in the big house until she started giving massages. Faith loved that hour of laughter and attention, and the two hours afterward when she and her mother would go to the greenhouse to tend her mother’s roses.

  But when the clock struck five, Faith’s happiness changed to dread. Her mother would fix a sandwich for Faith’s supper and see her safely back inside their shack. Before going to work, she would remind Faith about the bell hanging from a string in the corner of the room that she was to ring only in an emergency. The rope ran between the brothel and the shack with a bell at each end, and her mother used it to check on her. She would tug her end, making the bell at Faith’s end ring. Faith would tug back to ring that she was fine. But if Faith rang the bell without her mother’s prompting, it meant she had an emergency.

  She was five years old the first time her mother left her alone during the evening. Faith rang the bell because she was lonely and frightened. Her mother raced into the shack with two of her aunts, fearing that one of the male customers had strayed out back. When her mother realized there was no emergency, she grew furious and slapped Faith. Then she broke into tears and sank to her knees, rocking her child in her arms and promising they would have a real home someday with a big porch and lots of roses.

  It was winter, and her mother tucked a blanket around Faith then stoked the stove before going back to the brothel to continue an endless night of work. Faith huddled alone on her pallet in the silent room, nibbling her sandwich, her hand clinging to the bellrope, desperate to pull it, knowing she didn’t dare.

  She’d been twelve when Adam was born, and she learned how to care for an infant. Her mother made frequent visits to the shack to feed him, but seemed unable to give him anything more than her mother’s milk. So Faith had been the one to give Adam the love he needed. The two of them clung to each other, spending years alone in that shack, day after day, night after night, waiting like prisoners for their mother to come and dole out their daily sustenance.

  Her mother had wanted to protect them from the ugliness of her life, but in doing so she’d kept herself away from them, depriving them of her mothering and love, and imprisoning them in a world they didn’t understand.

  And that’s why Faith hated her. She could bear her mother’s neglect. But Adam and Faith had needed the woman in their lives more than three hours a day. Was it too much to ask for a mother’s love? For a little of her attention and time?

  That would have been enough for Faith. That’s all she herself had wanted from her mother.

  And that’s what Adam and Cora needed from Faith. But her debts and expenses were pulling her away, stealing her time and forcing her to make choices as destructive as her mother’s had been. Faith couldn’t bear another day of seeing Adam and Cora’s desperate faces as she dragged herself inside and fell asleep without tucking them in.

  She needed help.

  She needed love.

  She buried her face in her hands, lost and alone as she’d been all her life. Her anguished sob echoed off the stones, and she couldn’t hold back the deep sorrow wrenching her heart. She wept for her mother and her aunts who’d been stripped of their innocence and driven into a soulless life of prostitution; and for Adam and Cora, two beautiful children who were deserving of a better life than they’d been given; and for herself, because she was paying for the sins of her mother. And because she was repeating them.

  *

  DUKE RUSHED TO the bathhouse with his revolver gripped in his hand and his heart pounding. Faith stood in the huge tub, her face in her hands, her glistening body convulsing with hard, wrenching sobs.

  He looked around the small stone room and saw nothing wrong, no fire, no man lurking in the shadows, just Faith alone and weeping. The greenhouse was empty and silent. The only sound was her broken sobs, which he’d heard on his approach.

  “Faith?”

  She sucked in a breath and whirled toward the door, her face soaked with tears and misery, her breasts peeping through her wet hair.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She blinked in shock. A second later, she shrieked and sank into the water. “What are you doing here?”

  He holstered his gun. “I thought you had a fire in here.”

  “What?”

  “I just got into town and saw a glow through one of your windows while I was heading home. I thought the gas burner had started a fire, or that somebody was snooping around in your greenhouse.”

  “It’s five-thirty in the morning.”

  “Which is exactly why I was suspicious.”

  She snatched the towel off the ledge and dragged it beneath the water. “It’s just me and my lantern, so you can leave.”

  He gave her a consoling look. “Nobody with a heart could witness those wracking sobs and walk away.”

  She turned her back and lowered her chin. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice came out in a shaky whisper.

  “You’re not fine.”

  She swiped her fingers beneath her eyes, telling him she was struggling to hide more tears. The lantern cast a golden glow across her wet skin and the rippling water that blessedly hid her body from him. After glimpsing her breasts, he was relieved he couldn’t see into the water. She needed comfort now, not a sexual proposition. And that’s what he’d want to give her if she unveiled the rest of her beautiful body. He wasn’t a cad, just a man who was fiercely attracted to her.

  “Wrap that towel around you so I can come over there.” Her tears wrung his heart, but he wasn’t going near that tub until she was covered, because he’d had her on his mind all the livelong, boring, tedious week he’d been away, and to stumble upon this feast for his eyes was torture. Just knowing she was unclothed, her skin slick with water, drove him crazy.

  “Go away.”

  “And leave you alone in the dark, crying your heart out? I can’t, Faith. I’m coming over there, so you’d better cover yourself.”

  He took one step, but she lifted the sopping towel and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest with a wet splat and landed on his boots. “That badge on your chest doesn’t give you the right to trespass on my privacy, Sheriff. Now get out.”

  Her accusation stunned him. “Do you think I’d use my badge to take advantage of you?” he asked, feeling the warm water soak through his shirt.

  “Men who have a badge or political title can get away with that. The law doesn’t apply to them.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “I don’t believe it, Sheriff. I know it.”

  He stared at her, insulted to the core. But she wasn’t being vicious; she was sincere. She really believed all lawmen were cut of the same cloth, that they used their power to manipulate people. Some did, he knew, and that sickened him. But he would turn his revolver on himself before abusing his position.

  She crouched in the tub with her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders and hands peeping above the water. Her hair floated around her in long black strands. But her puffy eyes were dark pools of despair as she returned his stare. Suddenly he realized how vulnerable and scared she must feel, and that someb
ody from the law had put that fear in her eyes.

  “For whatever happened to make you believe I’d manipulate or harm you, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I disturbed you, but I’m truly relieved to know you’re safe.” He backed out of the room and pulled the door closed to keep her safe from any unsuspecting passerby who might jump to his same stupid conclusion that the building was on fire.

  The only thing burning was Faith’s conviction that she couldn’t trust him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  *

  FAITH SPOTTED THE sheriff at the back of the church, standing with his brothers and nephews. She was sitting with his mother and sisters-in-law, but he seemed oblivious to her presence.

  Her accusation this morning had been unfair. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but she had. And she felt awful about it, because she knew in her heart Duke Grayson was a man of fierce integrity. The opposite of Judge Stone.

  She practiced her apology during the long service, but afterward, when she stepped outside and saw him standing in the Common talking to Wayne Archer and a stocky, bald man, her hopes fell.

  She pulled Aster aside. “Will you take Cora and Adam home? I need to talk to the sheriff, and I have no idea how long I’ll have to wait.” But she would wait as long as it took, because she couldn’t let him walk away.

  “Take all the time you need.” Aster chucked Cora under the chin. “Did I ever tell you how my hair got white?”

  Cora shook her head, rapt.

  “I’ll tell you all about it on the way home.”

  Faith saw Adam cast a nervous look at the sheriff; then he followed Aster into the crowd.

  Tansy, Iris, and Dahlia had joined a group of men and women near the park fountain. Two of the women were customers at the greenhouse. Iris, with her shiny black hair and ivory skin, stood out like an orchid in a field of dandelions, but she was smart and had a playful sense of humor that made people like and accept her. The way men were looking at her, Faith didn’t believe for one minute the woman had never received a marriage proposal. Iris just didn’t want marriage.

  Faith didn’t blame her. Marriage was a scary business. One bad investment could ruin your whole life. Anna Levens was proof of that.

  Not wanting to interrupt Duke, Faith waited on the fringe of his gathering and tried to catch his eye. His chin was down while he was listening to the bald man talk, but then he nodded and looked up—right into her eyes.

  Her heart jolted, but he acted nonchalant as he clapped the short man on the shoulder. “I’ll take care of it,” he said then stepped away from the men.

  She laced her fingers in front of her to keep from fidgeting. “Would you consider walking me home?” she asked when he came to her side.

  “I think it would be a good idea.” He gestured for her to precede him through the crowd, but Faith slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, wanting to show those gathered in the park that she and the sheriff were courting. Maybe then he wouldn’t change his mind about doing so.

  He glanced at her in surprise, but escorted her through the park without comment. When they headed down Water Street, Faith slowed their pace.

  “I owe you an apology Duke,” For the first time it felt right using his name, because her apology was meant for the man behind the badge. “I’m sorry I insulted your integrity this morning.”

  He stopped to face her. “Faith, if you really believe what you said then I think we should reconsider courting.”

  “I meant it, but not for you. You’re a better man than I accused you of being.”

  “So are many of the lawmen I know.”

  “My comment was unfair, but not completely unfounded. Some lawmen do use their power to intimidate and manipulate others.” Judge Stone had.

  “I know.” He sighed and rolled his shoulder. “And you obviously know one of those men.”

  It wasn’t a question, but even if it had been, she wouldn’t answer. “I felt compromised this morning, but I know you’re not like those unscrupulous men,” she said, hoping to smooth over her earlier offense.

  “How do you know?” he asked. “Who says I’m not corrupt?”

  Years of guarding her virtue from the men who frequented her mother’s brothel intuitively told her that Duke Grayson wasn’t like them. He didn’t lie, cheat, or steal, and he wasn’t corrupt. He was the furthest thing from.

  “Your mother told me you weren’t.” She smiled, hoping to dissolve his anger and welcome back the warmth that had been building between them before she’d insulted him.

  Humor sparked in his eyes then faded. “What upset you this morning? It drove me crazy to leave you like that.”

  She turned away and resumed walking. He kept pace beside her, and she hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow again. “I was thinking about my mother.”

  “I haven’t asked, but have you been without her long?”

  His gentle query about her mother’s death made her eyes mist. “Seven weeks,” she said, but it seemed like she’d been without her mother all her life.

  “Even after thirteen years it’s hard,” he said thoughtfully.

  She nodded. Especially when your grief was all mixed up with guilt and love and hate.

  “Sounds like you could use a day away from everything,” he said.

  “I could use a day of uninterrupted sleep,” she answered truthfully. “My greenhouse has been swarming with women all week.”

  “That’s what my mother said this morning when I went home to change.”

  “She came in twice this week,” Faith remarked, feeling a sincere fondness for Nancy Grayson. “I think she was serious about being Iris’s best customer.”

  “All her life she’s sacrificed for my father and us boys, and now for her grandchildren. She deserves to treat herself to a massage when she wants one. And you deserve a day of enjoyment. I have an idea for our first official outing.” They turned left onto Mill Street, but he stopped before they reached the greenhouse. Light shadows underscored his eyes, as if he needed sleep, but his gaze was alert and sincere. “That is, if you’re certain you want me to court you.”

  “I’m certain,” she said. She not only wanted him to court her, but to marry her, because she needed to be a better mother to Adam and Cora, and Duke could help her do that. He was a man she could respect and possibly learn to love. She was a woman who would spend the rest of her life trying to bring him happiness. Many marriages were built on far less.

  Chapter Fifteen

  *

  FAITH HAD NEVER been to a circus, so Duke was taking her and the children to see the show before Van Amburgh moved his act to Mayville in the morning. They rode the street rail from Fredonia to Dunkirk then watched the circus animals parade down Central Avenue to attract people to the afternoon performance.

  “Is it over already?” Cora asked, her voice filled with disappointment as the last caged lion passed by.

  “This is only the parade, princess. We’re going to the circus now,” Duke said. As they walked to the fairgrounds, he patiently answered Cora’s endless stream of questions then paid their admission.

  Faith suspected Adam was staying away from Duke because of the incident with the hair brush, but Cora hadn’t detached herself from Duke’s side since he met them at the greenhouse.

  He took them to see the sideshows first. Cora’s eyes bugged at the snake lady. The woman sat in a cage playing with an enormous snake that Faith feared would haunt her nightmares, but all of the acts were performed to music that incited everything from fear to excitement.

  Adam was enthralled with the sword swallower, and forgot himself so completely, he blurted out that he’d sneaked into the circus in Syracuse right before they moved. “But they didn’t have a sword swallower,” he said, not realizing his mistake.

  Faith’s stomach clenched. “You mean the circus in Saratoga,” she said, praying Duke was as interested in the sword swallower as he appeared. “I’d better not hear of you doing anything like that again, Adam.”
/>   He threw a desperate glance at her, and she was sorry to see his joy melt away.

  She tried to smile at Duke, but her lips were too stiff to be convincing. “This is my favorite show so far.”

  “Mine too,” he said casually. Too casually. She looked away so he wouldn’t ask questions she couldn’t answer.

  When the act finished, they circled the grounds. Duke bought them pork sandwiches for a late lunch then treated them to ice cream.

  “Thank you,” Adam said, but he kept his head down while he ate. Cora licked her spoon and savored her ice cream with such pleasure, Faith admitted to Duke that they’d never had the frozen treat before. “My mother couldn’t afford admission to events like the circus.” At least that’s what her mother had led them to believe. But when Faith found her mother’s guest book, she’d also found a surprising amount of money. Between her mother’s stash, her own savings, and her aunts’ combined money, they had been able to escape Syracuse. What Faith couldn’t understand was, why her mother had stayed. Why, when she had some savings, hadn’t she escaped like Faith and her aunts had after her death?

  Cora stopped eating. “Grandma said we’re going to have a real home someday with a big porch and lots of roses around it.”

  Faith had heard that litany all her life, but it had been an empty promise. She had accepted that years ago, but it hurt that Cora was innocent enough to believe it. And it hurt that they had gone without so much when her mother had money hidden away.

  Duke pulled a white, folded handkerchief from his pocket and swiped a drip of ice cream off Cora’s chin.

  “I’m going to have a pony at our house,” the little girl added.

  That simple declaration made Faith want marriage more than anything. She wanted a man who could make some of their dreams come true because, God help her, she couldn’t do it on her own.