Only in My Arms

by Jo Goodman

  He laughed softly. "If there isn't, there will be." He'd build her one, he thought, and they would fill it with their own children if no one else had any use for it. Ryder squeezed Mary's hand. "It's going to work out," he said. The small vertical crease between her brows didn't disappear. "Mary? What is it?"

  "Your uncle seems almost eager to bring down Warren Hamilton."

  So it wasn't their distant future she was thinking about now, but their more immediate one. "He explained that to you. He doesn't like being made a fool."

  "None of us do," Mary said. She laid her free hand over his, absently stroking the back of it. "I don't know... It's just that..." Her fears were vague ones, difficult to put into words. "How will he ever persuade Anna Leigh to come to his home?"

  Ryder shrugged. "Is it important? He said he could do it, and I believed him. Did you?"

  "Oh, I believed him. But does it make sense?"

  "That you believe him?"

  "No," she said a bit impatiently. "That he should be able to do it." She removed her hand from his and lay on her back. "If Warren Hamilton would think twice before he stepped foot in your uncle's home, why wouldn't his daughter?"

  The easy answer was that Anna Leigh was a flighty, cotton-between-the-ears, young woman. It was also the wrong answer. Anna Leigh Hamilton had already proved that she was sharp and deviously single-minded in pursuit of something she wanted. Nothing good could ever come of underestimating her. "My uncle must know something we don't," Ryder said at last.

  It was the same conclusion Mary had come to. "I know," she said softly, almost distantly. "But what?"

  * * *

  It was agreed that Mary and Ryder would arrive at the senator's house just before dinner, at eight o'clock. Wilson Stillwell had promised that all other parties would arrive shortly thereafter.

  Mary dressed with care, but with no enthusiasm, for their engagement. Her ecru satin dinner dress closed with pearl buttons from the rounded neckline to the waist. Three large satin rosettes enhanced the right side of the draped skirt. The sleeves were three-quarter length, pointed toward the wrist and decorated with seed pearls. She had spent the afternoon thinking about the impending meeting and letting out the hem a half-inch. Now the dress looked as if it had been made expressly for her and not her sister.

  Mary made a quarter turn in either direction, critically eyeing the dress and her handiwork. She smoothed the beaded front and straightened the sleeves. French-braiding her hair had given her green eyes a faintly exotic look, and pinching her cheeks had added color to her complexion. When a tendril of red-gold hair fell over her forehead, she blew it out of the way in exasperation.

  Behind her she heard Ryder's deep chuckle. She stepped to one side so she was no longer blocking his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and a tailored two-tailed coat. "No one would ever know you're equally comfortable in buckskin and moccasins," she said.

  "I know," he said pointedly, drawing nearer. "I have something for you."

  "Ah," she said knowingly. "Finally an explanation as to where you were all morning."

  "Not quite. This has nothing to do with that." He reached inside his coat pocket, withdrew a small velvet-covered box, and held it out to Mary. In way of explanation, he said, "Doc just delivered it a few minutes ago."

  Mary's eyes held Ryder's in the mirror for a moment before she turned to accept the gift.

  "If you don't like it I can—"

  She stopped him with a telling look and a single arched brow before she opened the hinged box. The polished turquoise stone that Ryder had given Mary in the Cavern of Lost Souls now rested in an exquisite silver setting on a bed of black velvet. "Oh my," she said on a slender thread of sound. "How did you... when did you?..." It was difficult to complete a thought.

  Ryder gently took the box from her, removed the ring, and raised her left hand. He slipped it on and the fit was perfect.

  "Oh, Ryder... it's lovely."

  In spite of Mary's obvious pleasure he felt compelled to point out, "It's not a diamond."

  She raised on tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. "Who wants a diamond?" she whispered.

  "I thought..." He hesitated. "I noticed you looking at your hand when we registered here at the boarding house." He saw Mary's flush as she recalled the incident. "You didn't say anything, but I saw it wasn't right that you didn't have a ring. Not here, not among these people." Ryder lifted her hand and studied the fit of the ring. The silver setting was a delicate complement to the large blue-green stone. "I should have thought of it before Doc brought it to my attention. My uncle noticed it, but he had better manners than to stare as pointedly as Doc. I didn't want you to be embarrassed again."

  Mary removed her hand from his, laid her head against his chest, and embraced him hard. "I'm not embarrassed to be your wife." She tilted her head back, offering him a slightly wicked smile, and tapped him lightly on the chest with her forefinger. "And with or without this ring, you are my husband."

  He wasn't likely to forget it or to want it any other way. Ryder set Mary away from him and looked her over from head to toe. "Beautiful," he said. Then he basked in the warmth of her smile.

  For a moment.

  She added an arch look and said, "If this ring isn't the reason you were gone all morning, then exactly where were you?"

  His cool, frost-colored eyes flickered for a moment with something like amusement. Nothing changed in the shape of his mouth. With grave import he said, "Scouting for the cavalry, my dear."

  * * *

  Mary and Ryder were shown to the dining room immediately upon their arrival. Wilson Stillwell was at the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of wine. Mary accepted a sherry for herself while Ryder declined to drink at all.

  "As I remember, your father didn't drink either," Wilson said.

  "He didn't have anything against it," said Ryder. "He just didn't particularly like it."

  "Can't understand that myself." The senator raised his glass and touched the rim of it to Mary's. "To our success."

  "Success," she murmured. She sipped gently, wanting as clear a head on her shoulders as she could manage. "I take it that Miss Hamilton has accepted your invitation."

  "And Lieutenant Rivers. There was never any doubt."

  Again Mary felt a surge of disquiet. Why was there no doubt? she wondered. How could Senator Stillwell be so certain of Anna Leigh and Davis Rivers? She glanced at Ryder to see if any measure of concern could be detected on his features. He appeared completely at ease with this information. "They'll be here soon?"

  "The invitation was for dinner," Stillwell replied. "Fifteen minutes after the hour."

  "What about General Hatcher?" asked Ryder. "And the reporters you mentioned."

  Stillwell nodded. "All taken care of. I spoke personally with Hatcher this morning and with all three reporters this afternoon. Believe me, they were eager to come. I had to tell them very little to whet their appetites. Mrs. Shanahan is expecting them at the back door. She has been instructed not to show them into the hall until after Miss Hamilton and her escort arrive." Stillwell finished his glass of wine. "You understand you'll have to speak up. It isn't as easy to hear from the hallway as you might think. I experimented myself today with Mrs. Shanahan."

  "You seem to have covered everything," Ryder said.

  "As promised." He started to pour himself another glass of wine, but stopped when he heard the arrival of his other guests. "That would be Miss Hamilton and the lieutenant," he said, putting down his glass and bottle. He looked from Ryder to Mary. "You both know how you want to handle this?" he asked. "I've left that up to you."

  "I was certain you had," Ryder said. "We're prepared."

  Detecting an undercurrent in Ryder's words, Mary shot him a sideways glance once the senator's head was turned. Not only did Ryder not respond to her overture, he very pointedly ignored her. Mary had an urge to poke him in the ribs with her elbow. It took a great deal of self-contr
ol to resist.

  When Senator Stillwell left the dining room he did not close the doors completely. Mary and Ryder were able to hear him greet his guests and to follow the innocuous conversation that followed. Mary winced as she heard Anna Leigh Hamilton's practiced, trilling laughter. It was so obviously affected that she was surprised the woman had such success with it.

  Senator Stillwell parted the doors with a grand flourish and ushered his guests inside. His mouth was curved in a narrow, satisfied smile as he stepped into the room.

  "I believe you all know each other," he said calmly. Shutting the doors behind him, the senator intentionally ignored everyone and went straight to the sideboard to pour himself a glass of wine.

  Anna Leigh stared at Ryder. "My God," she said softly. She placed a hand to her heart as if to keep it in place.

  Mary thought this last gesture was overdone. She regarded the younger woman skeptically. Anna Leigh's slender hand was arranged artfully over her low-cut neckline in order to bring attention to her breasts rather than hide them.

  "McKay," Rivers said stiffly. His eyes went to Mary next, and his acknowledgment of her presence was equally stilted. "Miss Dennehy."

  Mary noticed that with their sunshine yellow hair and striking blue eyes, Anna Leigh and Davis Rivers were like a pair of perfectly matched bookends. The lieutenant's boyishly handsome features complemented Anna Leigh's dainty beauty. It struck Mary suddenly that their attraction for each other had a great deal to do with how much each was in love with his or her own image. She was hard pressed not to comment on it.

  Anna Leigh's hand dropped away from her bodice as her gaze narrowed on Mary. "So," she said, drawing out the single word thoughtfully, "you're the fallen angel who came to Ryder's aid. You were a nun, weren't you?" She did not ask the question to encourage a response. She knew the answer. She looked Mary up and down critically. "I don't suppose that after being without a man for so long you minded being raped by a half-breed savage."

  Mary didn't hesitate. She crossed the short distance to Anna Leigh in less than a second and slapped her so hard the younger woman was knocked sideways against the wall. "You ever say anything like that again," Mary warned, "and I won't use the flat of my hand." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Lieutenant Rivers was preparing to restrain her. She leveled him with a cold stare. "Keep your hands to yourself or I'll put you on the floor beside your bitch."

  The lieutenant's face flushed with color. In spite of that he drew in a breath and puffed like a banty rooster, prepared to take issue with Mary. She was not backing down.

  "I think you'd better see to Miss Hamilton," Ryder said significantly, catching the lieutenant's eye. "She appears to have been bloodied in the first round."

  Rivers hesitated, rocking on his feet slightly as he held off the forward motion that would have had him toe to toe with Mary. He let out his breath slowly as if he were finding control rather than being deflated, and went to Anna Leigh's side.

  Mary turned her back on the lieutenant as he drew out a handkerchief. She could see that Ryder was not pleased with her performance, but she was unapologetic. She came to stand at his side again and said quietly, "It had to be done."

  Still standing at the sideboard, the senator raised his glass in the direction of both couples. "I take it that we're off to a fine start," he said. "Salute."

  With the lieutenant's assistance, Anna Leigh straightened. She pressed the handkerchief to the right corner of her mouth. The tears that made her blue eyes glisten were no artifice. Mary's slap had been a stinging blow, and her cheek felt as if it were on fire. Anna Leigh looked to Rivers and said calmly, "Kill her."

  "Oh, for God's sake," Stillwell protested. "Haven't you any more imagination than that?"

  Mary's brows rose a little at that. She could have sworn the senator was enjoying himself. What about the reporters and General Hatcher? she wondered. Had enough time elapsed for them to be positioned on the other side of the door? Were they finding this exchange as entertaining as Senator Stillwell? Mary looked to Ryder for direction and saw nothing in his implacable calm that supported her own disquiet.

  Lieutenant Rivers made no move to carry out Anna Leigh's order. He was not wearing a weapon, at least not one that was visible to the eye, but he gave no indication that he was likely to have obeyed her in any event. "Be quiet," he said calmly, recovering some of his own presence of mind as he faced Ryder. "What is it you want, McKay?"

  Ryder's answer was simple. "The truth about Colter Canyon."

  "The truth?" Rivers scoffed. "You were there."

  His eyes straying to Anna Leigh for a moment, Ryder said, "No, I wasn't."

  Before the lieutenant could reply, Anna Leigh interrupted, "Are you going to just let this go on?"

  At first Mary thought Anna Leigh was speaking to Rivers, but when the lieutenant didn't answer Mary followed the direction of her militant, expectant look.

  "A little like leading sheep to the slaughter," Wilson Stillwell said almost apologetically.

  Mary's initial confusion was compounded as she turned and saw that the senator had exchanged his glass of wine for a gun. It was slowly borne home to her that his weapon, like his comment, was not intended for Anna Leigh and Lieutenant Rivers. He was aiming both at her and Ryder.

  Wilson Stillwell jerked the Colt revolver once, indicating the lieutenant should approach Ryder. "See if he's carrying a gun," he ordered. "And for God's sake be careful."

  Rivers crossed the distance in a few strides. Mary, who had moved protectively in front of Ryder, felt his hands gently come around her waist and move her to one side. Then he let her go and raised his arms, permitting Lieutenant Rivers to pat him down.

  Rivers completed his check efficiently, then straightened and stepped back with almost comical quickness. "There's no gun," he told Stillwell.

  One of the senator's brows arched as he regarded his nephew. "I'm surprised. I expected you not to leave anything to chance."

  Lowering his hands slowly, Ryder said, "We all make mistakes." He placed one hand lightly on the small of Mary's back in a gesture that was at once a warning and a protection. "I couldn't anticipate things would go quite this way."

  Stillwell smiled. "No one could, nephew. No one could." Keeping his revolver aimed at Mary and Ryder, he said, "Show them to the cellar, Lieutenant. Anna Leigh, open the doors for them. You may as well assist in the capture. All the glory can't be mine."

  Anna Leigh removed the handkerchief from her mouth. The bloodstained cloth had hidden a superior, malicious smile. She looked from the handkerchief to Mary. "A pleasure," she said sincerely. "A real pleasure."

  Mary's only satisfaction was that Anna Leigh winced when her smile became a bit too fulsome and had to quickly bring the handkerchief back to her lips.

  "This way," Davis Rivers said tersely. "Miss Hamilton. The doors."

  Anna Leigh drew them open and stepped into the hallway. Rivers took a step backward and gestured for Ryder and Mary to follow Anna Leigh. Mary didn't move until the hand at her back increased its pressure slightly and she understood that Ryder wanted her to go. Shoulders set squarely, her hands curled into fists, Mary expressed her protest with her body as she left the room. Once she was in the hallway she saw there were no reporters and no General Hatcher. Mrs. Shanahan and the other staff had evidently left as well.

  "You too," Rivers said to Ryder.

  Ryder paused to regard his uncle with pale, expressionless eyes. He moved on only when Wilson Stillwell was the first to look away.

  Anna Leigh demonstrated her familiarity with the house as she marched down the hallway and chose to open the second door on her right. Throwing the bolt, she waved Mary toward the dark entrance. "This way. It's the wine cellar. You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

  There was enough light from the hallway for Mary to make out the narrow stairs that led below. She looked over her shoulder at Ryder. He nodded slightly. "No," she said. "I'm not afraid of it."

  "You sho
uld be." Anna Leigh was poised to give Mary a smart push at the top of the stairs when she glimpsed Ryder's cold, taut expression. She had no doubt that if she touched Mary he would kill her. It didn't matter that his uncle had a gun pointed at his back and was prepared to use it. Ryder had the look of a man who was prepared to accept that. Anna Leigh let her hand drift back to her side. She stepped out of the way to give Ryder room to follow.

  Mary raised her gown and began to descend the stairs carefully. The edge of each step was slightly damp and there was no rail for support. Ryder was right behind her, proceeding into the dark, yawning cavity with similar caution.

  Without warning there was a cry above them. Mary recognized Anna Leigh's high-pitched squeal, then Lieutenant River's guttural shout of surprise. Even though Mary knew what to expect, she froze on the stairs. Ryder grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, abandoning caution in favor of getting down the stairs as quickly as possible. He took them blindly, two and three at a time, moving only a heartbeat faster than the two bodies that came tumbling after them.

  Anna Leigh's long scream rose and fell in pitch as she was bounced and jolted and scraped by the hard edges of the steps.

  In contrast, after his first hoarse cry, the descent of Davis Rivers was eerily quiet.

  Ryder lost his balance when his feet hit the cool brick floor of the wine cellar. He protected Mary from the worst of the fall by twisting so that he hit the floor first. For a moment he couldn't breathe. Mary was sprawled on top of him, her elbow planted solidly against his ribs. She tried to scramble off, but Anna Leigh somersaulted down the last three steps and landed hard on top of them both. Davis Rivers followed at a slower pace, his body slipping limply down the stairs as if it were a corrugated sliding board.

  Ryder had a glimpse of his uncle silhouetted at the top of the steps before the door was shut and the wine cellar returned to complete darkness.