An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  Yes, Jo was the perfect choice.

  As if he were invisible, Thaddeus left his hiding place, boarded the boat, and slipped aft along the outer deck, until he came to the stairs at the stern next to the motionless paddlewheel. He knew Jack Stoddard well enough to guess that his cabin would be upstairs in the bow with the best view. And if he were Ellie's husband, that's where he'd take her.

  With his finger on the trigger of his gun, he stole up the stairs on nimble feet. Creeping silently along next to the railing, he made his way forward, pausing to peer in the open windows of the second-floor public gaming room.

  Naturally, it was the height of opulence, which a man like Stoddard could easily afford—three crystal and brass chandeliers swayed gently with the river's current and underfoot lay a colorful Persian carpet; at a huge honeyed-oak bar, men imbibed every kind of liquor. The gaming tables that Thaddeus was too familiar with teamed with hopeful gamblers.

  Of course, plenty of skimpily clad women on Stoddard's payroll milled around both to distract winners and to placate losers. Not one of them could hold a candle to Jo. Where was she?

  A murmur of voices heralded her approach on the second floor. Sure enough, the crowd in the room turned as if of one mind toward the main interior oak staircase, and he knew Jo was making her way upstairs, as he'd asked her to do.

  At once, every man's gaze fixed directly on her; some admirers even moved in her direction, seemingly helpless against her sensual draw. When he saw her black feather swaying seductively from the top of her hat, he made his move.

  He slipped inside the gaming room via the farthest door along the deck, skirted the back of the tables, and ventured down the hallway where three closed doors confronted him. Ignoring the ones to the right and left, he approached the one straight in front of him.

  Locked—of course, it was. He pulled out the pick hidden in the band of his hat and in mere seconds, undid the lock. Cracking the door open cautiously, Thaddeus found it contained a bedroom set—two small side tables with green-glass lamps, and a plushly covered bed that gave him pause as the bed clothing stood in utter disarray.

  Where was Ellie? And why would Stoddard lock an empty room with nothing more interesting in it than pretty lamps? Thaddeus was well aware that the gambler kept his valuables in a safe in his office on the first floor—not simply locked but guarded. If Stoddard had imprisoned Ellie in his office, this rescue was going to get a whole lot trickier.

  Turning to leave, it struck him as odd that only one of the brocade ceiling-to-floor drapes hung closed, the one that, if he had the layout of the boat correctly in his mind, had no window behind it. The other drapes in the front of the cabin were open, revealing the evening view upriver and the fully lit city of Hamilton.

  Curious, he crossed the room to investigate. Drawing back the curtain, he found a door. His pulse quickened at the sight.

  Noiselessly, he tested the knob. It was unlocked. Taking his time, in case someone had a gun trained on him from the other side, he turned the handle. Well-oiled, the door made no sound as he pushed it inward, staying crouched low on his knees so his head wouldn't get blown off.

  What met his astonished eyes was a massive clawfoot tub, within which he could hear water splashing at the sides; more water sloshed over the edge, dripping onto the polished wood floor. A dainty foot and slender calf covered in bubbles lifted out of the tub. And he heard humming—soothing slightly off-key humming.

  Ellie's golden hair, freshly washed and still wet, hung down her naked shoulders and over the side of the tub, nearly to the floor as her head reclined against the white, enamel-covered cast iron. She faced the far wall that had a window with a view of the other side of the river. From the bathtub, she could see both Iowa and Missouri if it weren't dark out.

  After a brief scan confirmed they were alone, he stood up, shutting the door behind him at the same time with a firm click.

  She jumped, startled, sinking into the water and sloshing it over the sides of the tub, while turning to see who'd entered.

  Irritation flashed through him. "What in the hell are you doing?"

  He'd never been so relieved to see someone, but on the other hand, she didn't look like a suffering prisoner, nor was she ready to take flight with him. More like she was preparing for an evening with her husband.

  "Thaddeus!" She stood up, bubbly water running in rivulets down her lithe body. For a brief moment, he saw her in all her glory.

  "Oh," she exclaimed, realizing she was giving him an eyeful. Her hands flew up to cover herself, one over the darker-haired triangle between her legs and the other, unsuccessfully trying to conceal both her breasts as best she could.

  He had trouble forming a thought or making a sound. In any case, he couldn't remember what he wanted to say. All the blood that he figured was normally circling through his body and maybe making his brain function was now rushing pell-mell to his manly parts.

  Instead of sinking back down into the water, Ellie spun around, almost slipping in the tub, and giving him a prime view of her pleasantly rounded backside. It did nothing to help his cognitive ability one bit. He wanted to squeeze those perfect pale cheeks. He took a step.

  "Please, hand me my towel," she said, keeping her back to him and reaching out her dripping arm.

  Towel? Towel? Oh, towel. Reaching for the white plush one that lay draped over a brass rack, Thaddeus held it out to her, knowing decency demanded he look away but finding it impossible to do so.

  Snatching it, Ellie glanced over her shoulder at him.

  "You came," she said wonderingly, as if she'd doubted it, which bothered him, but then she flashed him a brilliant smile, making his intelligence slip down another notch.

  He nodded in agreement, watching her dry off and then shake out her damp hair. When she finally tucked the towel firmly in place around her body and stepped out of the tub, he began to think clearly once more, and his anger returned.

  "If you truly were my wife, I'd tan your hide for that stupid stunt you pulled. You wouldn't sit down for a week."

  Why was she still smiling? She was supposed to be fearful of his fury or mightily contrite. Or at the very least, ashamed of getting herself captured.

  "You rode all the way back to get me." She beamed at him again.

  Just as he was about to speak a rational sentence, Ellie closed the distance between them and flung herself at him. His arms went around her automatically. When she lifted her lovely face to his, suddenly they were kissing and he forgot everything else.

  As her arms snaked around his neck and he held her tightly, he contemplated laying her down on the bed in the next room—whether Stoddard's bed or not. Or perhaps, here in the bathing room, he could press her up against the wall, pull that towel off of her, and...

  He was momentarily overtaken by the idea of uniting with her much more closely and deeply than a mere kiss. Sliding his tongue into her sweet mouth, he felt captured by the clean scent of her, her soft warmth, the essence of her that always snared him when she was close. Ellie.

  But he'd never been caught with his pants down, and he didn't intend to start that day.

  Basking in her taste and her aroma and the feel of her body against his for a second longer, regretfully, he ended the kiss and thrust her from him.

  "Get dressed," he croaked, and then cleared his throat. "We have to get out of here now."

  No doubt Jo was running out of ways to distract. And so far, he'd seen no sign of Stoddard.

  Ellie hesitated; he hated it when she did that.

  "Do you have an actual plan?" she asked.

  "Does it matter? We're wasting time."

  He still wanted to berate her for jumping off the train in the first place; he couldn't fathom why she'd done it, but he would discuss it with her when they were safe.

  Right then, relief at finding her unharmed battled with annoyance that he'd discovered her lounging in the lap of luxury, bathing rather than being ready to go. Had she no faith that he'd come
for her?

  "Ellie, where are your clothes?"

  She sighed, and he found out the reason for her hesitation in getting dressed.

  "Jack took them. He made me strip them off because they were so dirty, and so was I."

  Thaddeus knew what she meant. After a couple days on the road, riding and sleeping on the ground, a person tended to get a little ripe, and dirt got into crevices one didn't even realize one had.

  Then Thaddeus considered the untidy bed and looked once more at the bath. Had she been bathing because Stoddard had raped her?

  "Did he hurt you?"

  She shook her head vehemently. "No, God, no. He... well, he watched while I undressed." She frowned. "He threatened me and said I'd regret running away, but then he took my dirty clothes and my bag and left. Of course, he locked me in."

  Thaddeus swore. Stoddard probably could've left the door unlocked. Without any clothes, Ellie was as firmly imprisoned as if she'd been in chains.

  "Did he mention our association?"

  "Not when I first got thrown in here, but then he had a talk with those men, you know Blackheart Bart and the others. Then Jack came back and questioned me concerning you, how I knew you and all. He seemed to be quite amused by the coincidence that you and I were traveling together."

  "You had this talk while you were undressed in his bedroom?" He was having trouble picturing how that had occurred without it going badly for Ellie.

  She blushed furiously. "I wrapped myself in the bed clothes."

  "Are you willing to travel wrapped in a sheet? Because, darlin', I don't know how I'm going to get you a set of clothes right now."

  As if on cue, a rap on the bedroom door startled them both into silence. They shared a glance. Jack Stoddard certainly wouldn't knock, but Thaddeus pulled his gun out all the same. He moved quickly to stand behind the door. With a finger to his lips, he gestured for Ellie to let the person in.

  To his great relief, a young woman entered, one of the dancing girls who entertained the men if they seemed tired of losing and in danger of leaving. She held a tray of food.

  "Mr. Stoddard thought you might—"

  Thaddeus kicked the door shut and pointed his gun at her. "Don't scream or I'll shoot."

  He'd never shot a female and had no intention of doing so, but he found the threat usually made people do what he asked. This time was no different. She kept her ruby-red painted lips firmly closed.

  "Set the tray down on the bed and take your clothes off," he ordered her.

  With shaking hands, the woman placed the tray on the end of the bed and proceeded to strip down. Apparently, she was used to doing that in her line of work, for she boldly stared right at him as she did so, seemingly unperturbed.

  "Stop," he told her when she got to her corset and skimpy drawers. His command met with a startled look of relief. Perhaps no man had ever told her to leave her drawers on before. "That won't be necessary. Ellie, take her clothes and get dressed."

  Wordlessly, Ellie grabbed up the discarded gown and, more modest than the dancing girl, went back into the bathroom to dress. In no time at all, she emerged, looking like one of Stoddard's employees, except that the dress dragged on the ground and her wet hair hung tangled down her back. Between the mishap at the stream and the bathwater, he was beginning to get used to that look on her, but it would draw too much attention.

  "Excuse me, miss," Thaddeus said, stepping toward her and removing the pins from the young woman's hair, as he'd done to many a lady. He handed them to Ellie. "Can you do something with these?"

  She tried, piling her hair onto the top of her head and pinning it in a sloppy bun that left nearly as much hanging down as was held up.

  "Here, take this, too," he said, plucking the feather from the girl's hair and sticking it into Ellie's, right behind her ear.

  "Now, the shoes."

  At this, the woman appeared truly peeved, but she removed her feet from her pliant leather slippers and Ellie put them on.

  "A bit big; I'll probably trip out of them," she said.

  "You'll need them," Thaddeus insisted, and then he used the curtain tiebacks to tie the woman's hands together. Marching her into the bathroom, he stuffed a washcloth in her mouth and tied up her feet, too.

  "Sorry about this, miss," he added before closing the bathroom door on her annoyed glare.

  "That should gain us a little time, if we're lucky," he added, drawing Ellie behind him as he slowly opened the bedroom door again and saw the back of one of Stoddard's men at the end of the hallway.

  So much for luck. First, he didn't like the idea of shooting a man in the back. Secondly, if he fired off a shot, the entire boat would be alerted.

  He backed into the bedroom.

  "I went out the window last time when I had a room at the back of the boat," she reminded him. "That's how I cut my leg."

  He stared at her, thinking how resourceful she was and awfully glad that she wasn't the panicky type.

  "I guess we're going out the window," he agreed.

  Ellie's grip on his arm tightened.

  "It'll be fine, darlin'," he assured her and chose one of the windows over the bed so she could better reach it. He undid the latch and pushed the window open. Not the largest opening in the world, but they would fit.

  "I'm going first, then stick your arms out and I'll pull you through."

  She nodded, her big eyes scared but trusting.

  He stood on the bed and climbed through the window headfirst, held immobile for a moment as his shoulders got wedged in the small opening. However, the leverage of the bed allowed him to push out. He ended up sitting backward on the sill before working one leg through the opening and twisting his body, so he could sit astride. Pulling his other leg out without falling off the sill was a little tougher, but soon, he lowered himself to the deck.

  They'd had a stroke of luck after all. Stoddard could have chosen a boat with no upper level fore deck. Without it, they quite possibly would have broken their necks on the long drop to the main deck below. Instead, it was just a few feet before his boots touched the planks.

  Ellie's hands appeared through the window opening, followed by her head and arms. As he started to help her out, she stiffened and swiveled her head around to look behind her. Her expression changed to panic, and she scrambled out the window into his arms.

  Thaddeus tucked her behind him as the face of Blackheart Bart loomed in the opening where she'd been only a second before. With a furious expression, Bart scowled down at them.

  "Sanborn," he spat. "You are so dead."

  Probably true, Thaddeus thought. Without replying or giving Bart time to draw his gun, Thaddeus grabbed Ellie's hand and took off around the side of the boat, not even pausing as he issued an earsplitting whistle to signal Jo. He hoped she could hear it over the noise of the people enjoying Stoddard's riverboat hospitality.

  Speeding past the upstairs gaming room with Ellie in tow, they ran aft and headed down the outside stairs. Before Thaddeus could do more than whistle again in case Jo was in the lower gaming room, the first shot rang out, hitting the brass railing next to his hand.

  Sheltering Ellie with his body, he flattened them both against the hull, while firing randomly at the deck above him through the stair risers. He hoped the gamblers had the sense to stay inside the boat. Another bullet shot through the walkway above them and landed on the deck next to his boot.

  Shit! He and Ellie were sitting ducks. He hadn't bargained on Stoddard allowing his men to open fire while the gaming was going on. It seemed to Thaddeus that a gunfight would be bad for business—people had already halted in their approach to the gangplank—but evidently Stoddard didn't care.

  "You might hit Mrs. Stoddard," Thaddeus called out when the shooting stopped. Ellie glared at him for using her married name, but he continued, "Where is Stoddard anyway?"

  He hoped for an answer so he could determine where Bart was. He heard a chuckle from directly above.

  "He's occupied at
the moment, maybe with the soon-to-be new Mrs. Stoddard."

  Thaddeus and Ellie looked at each other as Bart continued, "Not much 'tween wife and widower, just a heartbeat."

  "How poetic," Ellie muttered.

  Thaddeus shot straight up through the deck and heard the satisfying sound of a cry of pain. To his disappointment however, the man who fell over the upper railing and onto the dock two stories below was not Bart. He wasn't merely an innocent gambler though; if the gun clutched in his hand was any indication, clearly, he worked for Stoddard.

  Ellie gaped through the railing at the man's body, lying twisted and still. Seeing her face grow paler, Thaddeus grabbed her hand and dragged her to the other side of the stern, passing the giant paddlewheel again.

  He'd evened their odds a little by shooting one man. They might still escape with their lives, but the alternative remained—that Bart, or Stoddard, himself, would have the pleasure of tossing their bodies into the Mississippi. Then, he had an idea.

  "You can swim, right?"

  "Yes," she answered distractedly, still looking at the deck above for Bart.

  He remembered spying on her in the lake that fed the spring from which their hometown got its name. It didn't seem like the time to tell her that, however, as he looked over the side into the dark water.

  She realized why he was asking and took a step back. "Oh no, Thaddeus."

  He ignored her.

  "Swim a hundred yards or so, or let the current carry you, and we'll get to shore when we're out of range."

  "Range?" she asked, looking at the swirling eddies below.

  "Of the gun shot," he clarified.

  "Thaddeus, I don't think this is a good—"

  "Hold your breath, darlin', and please don't scream," he said as he picked her up, lifted her over the rail, and without warning, let her go. She plunged into the water with a light splash.

  Bart and his men were still on the other side of the boat, expecting them to try to escape down the gangplank. Thaddeus sure hoped Jo could take care of herself. He took a deep breath and jumped in after Ellie.