Whirlwind Secrets

by Debra Cowan

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Mr. Gerard was a sweet man, but Lydia knew from the couple of seconds Russ had looked at her this morning, he hadn’t wanted to be around her.

  “If you need to send him a message, he’s staying at the Texas Crown Hotel.”

  Even though she had no right to feel hurt, she did. Her upset had nothing to do with being his business partner and everything to do with that kiss.

  Regardless of them both agreeing it shouldn’t happen again, their relationship had shifted into a much more personal one. They were still partners, though, and Russ should’ve told her about the trip himself, she fumed. They generally discussed everything that concerned the business.

  An unpleasant notion popped into her head. Maybe he wasn’t going to Abilene for business. Maybe he was going for pleasure.

  The thought put an ache in her throat.

  “Did he say why he was making the trip?” she asked Ef.

  “He’s planning to meet with some businessmen.”

  “About buying his share of The Fontaine?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  There was no reason Russ couldn’t have told her that himself. He just hadn’t wanted to. Lydia couldn’t believe how vexing, and hurtful, she found that.

  “He also said he might meet with the banker, depending on how things went.”

  The disappointment she felt was absurd. He was away from the hotel. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  “I’ll check by each morning and evening,” the blacksmith said. “You or Naomi should feel free to send for me at any time.”

  “Thank you, Ef. And thank you for the message.”

  “You’re welcome. It was no trouble.”

  As she watched the brawny man stride out of the hotel, Lydia told herself it was good Russ was gone. Now her full attention could be on the underground network.

  Dismissing the heaviness dragging at her, she managed not to think about Russ until late that night when she was on her way up to her rooms. She found herself on the hotel’s balcony looking past the town to the plains beyond. The November air sent a shiver through her and she rubbed her arms against the cold. The moon winked like a sliver of ice in the clear black sky, its light glazing the knee-high grass swaying in the slight breeze and the occasional mesquite tree.

  Abilene—and Russ—was east of here. A long stretch of prairie separated her from him, and inside it felt as though the distance were even greater.

  Lydia hadn’t realized how much she had come to anticipate seeing him around the hotel. No matter how often he left during the day, he typically returned to the hotel for supper and to stay the night. The man’s robust presence filled every inch of The Fontaine and now that he was away, everything seemed dull and flat.

  There was no shortage of work to keep Lydia’s hands and thoughts occupied. Helping Zoe Keeler clean the guest rooms, aiding Naomi in the kitchen. Washing and folding laundry, tending the guests, keeping the books.

  Lydia would order herself not to think about him and before she realized it, she’d be lost in a full-blown memory—of him changing her bandage, of dancing with him. Kissing him. He wasn’t even here and he distracted her!

  His absence sawed at her, day in and day out. Wore away at her irritation over him not telling her about his trip.

  She missed him, she realized one evening when his brother came to the hotel.

  Matt strode through the dining room’s wide archway and caught Lydia’s eye from across the room, where she stood talking to a family of four. Upon seeing the youngest Baldwin, her heart kicked hard. Had something happened to Russ?

  She excused herself and wove around another group of guests to the table Matt had chosen close to the kitchen. He eased his strapping frame into one of the dining chairs.

  “Evenin’, Lydia,” he said when she reached him.

  “Hello.” She couldn’t keep the apprehension from her voice. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” he answered quickly. “Sorry if I alarmed you.” He removed his hat and laid it on the chair beside his. “I didn’t mean to cause concern.”

  “Have you heard from Russ then?”

  “Not since he left. I guess you haven’t, either.”

  “No.” That didn’t automatically mean there was trouble. Still, she felt wound as tight as an eight-day watch.

  Matt grinned, flashing dimples in the same place as his brother’s. “The real reason I stopped by was for a piece of Pearl’s pecan pie and a cup of coffee.”

  “All right.”

  Steadying her pulse, Lydia returned with his order and placed it in front of him. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  She cleared the dishes from an empty table then checked on him again. “Would you like more coffee?”

  At his nod, she stepped into the kitchen and returned with a pot to refill his cup.

  Matt shifted in his chair, his broad shoulders straining at the fabric of his shirt just as his brother’s did. Both men were dark-haired and tall with muscular builds. Not as burly as Ef, but powerful and hard and sinewy.

  He pushed his plate to the side. “That was real good. Nobody makes pecan pie like Pearl.”

  “Some of our guests have already requested special desserts from her.”

  As his gaze panned the dining room, Lydia found herself again comparing him and his brother. Matt’s features were blunt, Russ’s slightly more refined. Their eyes were the same dark shade of blue. Both were ruggedly handsome, but Lydia wasn’t tempted to stroke her fingers down the solid line of Matt’s jaw the way she wanted to with Russ. “May I get you anything else?”

  “Not right now.” Matt took a sip of coffee. “Did you run a business back in Mississippi?”

  Any mention of her home had tension coiling inside her. Why was he asking? “Yes, my father’s shipping company.”

  “What does he do? Build barges and boats?”

  “No. We own steamboats. Some people book passage for travel. Others hire us to ship their goods up the river.”

  She drew in Matt’s scent of leather and the earth. Russ smelled like spicy soap and clean male. Oh, foot! Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? “I was in charge of schedules, paying the workers and pricing our fares.”

  Matt looked at her admiringly. “Russ said you were real smart.”

  “He did?” She tried not to pay too much attention to the pleasure that rippled through her.

  “Yeah.” Matt shook his head. “Have you run into problems before with businessmen accepting you?”

  “A few times, yes. Not with your brother, though.”

  “Russ ain’t no dummy. He appreciates smarts no matter how they come wrapped.” He gave her an appraising look. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that yours are wrapped up so well.”

  Lydia laughed at his flirting.

  “Too bad that man from Chicago wasn’t so sharp.”

  Mr. Julius? she thought. “What do you mean?”

  “His refusing to buy Russ’s share of the hotel because you’re a woman.”

  What? She barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Russ had told her only that the man wasn’t interested, not that she was the reason why. She suddenly felt queasy.

  “Said he didn’t do business with women.” Matt snorted. “Some men are like that. Fools, if you ask me. One of the smartest businesspeople I know is a woman. Hell, she runs two whore—uh, two entertainment businesses out of Dallas.”

  Lydia barely noticed his glowing endorsement of the brothel madam or his following conversation. She was still scrambling to recover her mental balance.

  If not for her, Russ could’ve sold his interest in The Fontaine and already paid off that bank loan.

  He hadn’t let on one bit that Mr. Julius had refused the deal because she was a woman. Even as she told herself not to, Lydia went all soft inside because Russ had tried to shield her feelings.

  Oh, forevermore. His being a gentleman was nothing to get weak-kneed over. Still…she was touche
d. And charmed.

  Just when she thought she could keep from falling for him, she learned something like this. How was she supposed to resist him now?

  “Do you have any idea when Russ will be back?” Lydia asked.

  “No, but I hope he has good news when he does.”

  When Russ did sell his part of the hotel, he would be moving out and the place would feel as dull as it had for the past few days. The idea didn’t sound nearly as appealing as it had when she had first arrived. It niggled at her the rest of the evening.

  Late that night, after the hotel was quiet, thoughts of Russ were interrupted by Naomi waking her with the news that the battered woman they had been expecting had shown up with two more victims.

  Lydia pulled on her wrapper, her mind racing. There were already two women using the safe room. One had a broken ankle, so she and her companion had no choice but to stay on for a few days before making their way to the next safe station. Now three more abuse victims had to be squeezed into the hiding area! Could they all fit?

  Lord, as much as she’d missed Russ, Lydia was suddenly thankful he was still gone. And hoped he would stay away for a few more days.

  Trying not to feel flustered, she worked beside Naomi to make pallets for the new arrivals. That done, she stepped out of the storage room, holding the lantern aloft as she walked to the pie safe at the front of the pantry. There was enough corn bread left over from tonight’s menu for the new arrivals.

  Lydia shifted the lantern to her other hand as she reached to open the cupboard holding the bread.

  “Lydia?”

  She gasped, whirling toward the door. She wasn’t sure what surprised her the most. Seeing Russ standing in the kitchen doorway. Or the fact he had one arm draped around the waist of a willowy blonde.

  Chapter Nine

  L ydia nearly dropped the lantern. Framed by the pale gaslight coming from the lobby, Russ’s shoulders looked as wide as the door. The sight of him in a black duster put a flutter in her stomach. In the wavering light, she could see that his black shirt and trousers were filmed with red dust, just like his coat and scuffed black boots.

  Whiskers shadowed his jaw and he looked tired, but when his gaze met hers, pleasure flared in the blue depths. Then it was gone. She felt a tug of want deep in her belly.

  Trying to compose herself, she said, “Welcome back. I—we weren’t sure when to expect you.”

  “I wasn’t sure when I was coming back.” His voice was stiff and ragged. From fatigue? Or because he was reluctant to talk to her, just as he had been before he left?

  The gladness she felt at seeing him was squelched as her gaze moved to the blonde plastered to his side. Something twisted in Lydia’s chest. She’d been missing him and he had brought back a woman! She was swept with an urge to smack him upside the head, but somehow she managed to school her features into what she hoped was a blank mask.

  After a moment, her irritation abated enough for her to notice more about Russ’s female companion. He shifted so that the woman was out of his shadow and Lydia could see she was hurt.

  Her curly golden hair was piled on top of her head in a wobbly knot and drew attention to her heart-shaped face. The blonde was pretty. And injured. Her lower lip was busted and bruises covered one side of her face. Lydia could make out the indentation of a ring on her bloodied cheek. Her pale blue eyes were bloodshot, one of them nearly swollen shut.

  It was no accident that had caused those injuries. They were from a fist. And Russ was practically keeping the woman on her feet.

  “Willow Upshaw, this is Lydia Kent.” He looked at Lydia. “I told her you could help her.”

  “Me?” She frowned. Had Russ brought the woman here because she was trying to escape an abusive situation? If Russ had wanted medical care for her, he probably would’ve sent for Catherine. Or asked for Naomi.

  Did that mean Russ knew about the underground network? Lydia tightened her grip on the lantern’s handle.

  “I told her you could help her get away from—”

  Get away from…her abuser? Lydia’s brain froze as she fought down a sudden panic. How had he found out? Was anyone’s safety in jeopardy? It took a moment for his voice to penetrate her frenzied thoughts.

  “Willow wants to get away from her old life and start over.”

  “I’m willin’ to work hard, ma’am.” The woman spoke carefully because of her swollen lip.

  Lydia’s legs nearly gave out in relief as she realized Russ wanted her to give the woman a job, not help her escape an abusive situation. He didn’t appear to know anything about the underground network. Reminded of the need for secrecy concerning the women she had just hidden, she gestured toward the dining room.

  “Have a seat at one of the tables and let me look at your injuries. The light is better in there.”

  She extinguished the lantern and hung it on the hook outside the pantry door. Hopefully, Naomi would realize the dousing of the light meant something was wrong and that it wasn’t safe for anyone, including her, to come out of the storage room.

  As Russ guided Willow to a dining table and pulled out a chair, Lydia hurried to the kitchen sink and pumped some hot and cold water into a bowl. She grabbed a small towel and moved into the dining room.

  In time to see the too-familiar smile Willow gave Russ after he helped her into a chair. An intimate smile, in Lydia’s opinion. Russ and the other woman were obviously well acquainted. Sexually acquainted, Lydia thought resentfully.

  Pulling her attention from Russ, she sat in the chair beside Willow’s. She soaked the cloth and squeezed out the water, carefully dabbing at the woman’s cheek. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  “I been hit worse than this before,” the blonde offered.

  Lydia’s heart ached at how matter-of-fact the woman was about the beating. She gently touched the wet rag to the corner of Willow’s swollen eye. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “Just my face.”

  “No bruised ribs, broken bones?”

  “Not this time.” She gave a raspy laugh. “I’m so tired I cain’t see straight, but my face is the only thing busted. I really don’t need no attention. Just a job.”

  Too caught up in the surprise of Russ’s arrival and the added botheration of sensing the relationship between him and Willow, Lydia only now registered the other woman’s ragged dress with its shockingly low décolletage. Her garishly made-up features. An ease with Russ that bespoke an unseemly familiarity with men. With him.

  The woman was a prostitute. Lydia shot a look at her partner, who arched a dark brow in silent warning. Russ had said that Willow wanted a fresh start.

  “Do you have any experience with the public?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Lydia realized the question was ill-phrased.

  Before she could reword it, Russ made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. A flash of amusement in his blue eyes had her frowning at him.

  Willow looked uncertainly at Russ. “Um. I worked at a saloon in Abilene, ma’am. I swept floors and did my own wash. I served drinks sometimes and men—”

  “She understands.” Russ laid a big hand on the blonde’s shoulder, smiling down at her.

  Yes, Lydia understood that Willow had served men’s urges the rest of the time. Had Russ been one of them? Lydia knew he had, and she struggled to keep her tone even. “This is a reputable hotel, Willow. The work here will include things like cleaning and the laundry, not…entertaining men.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You don’t have to worry none about that.”

  “She wants a new life, Lydia.” With an edge in his voice, Russ gestured to the prostitute’s battered face. “You can see why.”

  Still alert for any sound from the pantry, Lydia studied the woman in front of her. Willow held her gaze, doing some studying of her own. It was plain she wanted the job, but she wasn’t going to lie about her old one. Lydia liked that.

  She nodded. “We’ll talk about your duties tomorrow.”

  “So
I can work here?” The woman’s pale blue eyes held a glimmer of hope.

  “Yes.”

  “I can start right now, ma’am.” She rose, gripping the edge of the table.

  Lydia wondered if Willow were hurt in other places, despite her denial. “Tomorrow will be soon enough. Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Russ fed me real good.”

  Of course he had. “All right,” Lydia said softly as she got to her feet. “You go on upstairs now. Choose any room you want on the third floor. There should be a towel and cloth next to the washbasin beside the bed.”

  The pantry area and storage room remained quiet. It appeared Naomi had understood Lydia’s signal.

  “I really can do some work now, ma’am,” Russ’s guest insisted. “I don’t want you to be sorry for taking me on.”

  “After all your travel today, you look as though you could use some rest. There will be plenty to do tomorrow.”

  Lydia followed the other two out of the dining room, not missing the way Russ’s hand cupped his friend’s elbow.

  As the three of them made their way across the lobby, Lydia slowed her steps to match the injured woman’s. “Did you anger anyone when you left Abilene? Will someone be coming after you?”

  “No, ma’am. Eldon’s got girls lots younger than me now.”

  “Good.”

  They all stopped at the foot of the staircase and Russ steadied Willow on the bottom step.

  Lydia stepped forward. “Do you need my help getting up the stairs?”

  Judging by the way Russ’s eyes narrowed, he caught her subtle emphasis.

  “No, ma’am. I can manage.”

  “There’s indoor plumbing on every floor,” Russ put in. “Take a bath if you want.”

  “Indoor plumbing. That’s fancy.” The woman smiled, revealing a chip on the corner of one tooth.

  Had that been caused by the same person who had beaten her? Lydia wanted to help the woman, but she had to be clear. Her neck burned at the indelicate subject. “So, we have an understanding?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Willow hesitated, then angled her chin. “I reckon your guests will find out what I used to be?”