Whirlwind Secrets

by Debra Cowan

  As they ate, Russ went back and forth about what to say to Matt. It shouldn’t bother Russ that his brother had come around the hotel while he was away, so he wouldn’t let it. But Matt’s sharing confidences with Lydia was a different matter.

  After supper, they stopped in at Pete Carter’s saloon for a drink. They took a table in the far corner as Pete brought them a bottle of his good whiskey. The brothers sipped at the liquor, watching another of the countless arguments between Luther Grimes and Odell Pickett. At least they were still standing at the bar.

  Neither was waving around a gun. Pete had learned long ago to collect their hardware when Luther and Odell came in.

  The old men were harmless until they got full of liquor, then an old feud—no one knew about what—reared its head and they threatened to duel. Pete had already cut off their liquor supply, but the pair were spitting at each other like wet hens.

  Russ glanced at his brother. “Lydia told me you came by to see her while I was gone.”

  “Yeah.” Matt tossed back a drink. “She’s quite the package.”

  Russ bit back the urge to tell Matt to stay away from her. “She also asked me about Julius’s decision not to buy my share of The Fontaine. I was damn surprised she knew about that.”

  Matt frowned. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “It wasn’t anything she needed to be privy to.”

  “Sorry. I thought she already knew or I wouldn’t have said anything. Did I cause a problem?”

  “No,” Russ answered gruffly. The problem between him and Lydia had nothing to do with his brother.

  The swing of the saloon door had Russ looking past Matt to see Davis Lee. The sheriff stopped to have a word with Luther and Odell, who still refrained from swinging at each other.

  Davis Lee made his way over and eased into a chair beside Russ. He palmed off his hat, scrubbing a hand down his face. “How was your trip?”

  “Not very successful.”

  “Sorry to hear it. Maybe I can give you a little good news.” He slouched back in his chair. “I found out something about your business partner.”

  Russ couldn’t decide if it was dread or anticipation stirring up his blood. “And?”

  Matt looked from Russ to Davis Lee.

  The lawman inclined his head. “It’s all right for me to talk in front of Matt?”

  Russ nodded. A sudden tension banded his chest.

  “What the hell?” Matt muttered.

  Davis Lee pinched the bridge of his nose. “She called off the wedding and sued Wade Vance for breach of promise after he took off with a hefty sum of money her father thought he was investing in a business venture. To hear her tell it, Lydia hired a couple of private investigators to hunt down Vance and they found out the man had several fiancées. He had bilked all their families, too.”

  “So why did she sue him for not marrying her?”

  “She stood a better chance of getting some of the money back and stopping him.”

  “That means everybody around there knew what had happened. She opened herself up to scandal and embarrassment.” Matt voiced Russ’s thoughts.

  The woman had spine. Russ had to give her that. He found himself smiling inwardly. She was a piece of work. “I’ll be damned.”

  “You knew I’d find something,” Davis Lee reminded.

  “Not anything like this.” Russ had been hoping for a discovery that would make it easier for him to stay away from her, not harder.

  Matt scowled. “You told Davis Lee to investigate Lydia? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t trust her, that’s what.”

  “Why not?”

  Russ looked at the sheriff. “There’s got to be more.”

  “Just getting this much information was like pulling teeth.”

  “That’s not too surprising.” Getting anything out of the woman herself was exactly the same. “I don’t think whatever she’s hiding has to do with her former betrothed.”

  “You want me to keep trying?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know when I have more information.”

  Matt waited until Davis Lee had stepped outside before looking at Russ in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t check up on ladies!”

  “Why not? If I’d checked up on Amy, I could’ve saved myself a lot of misery.”

  “This isn’t right. What is it you think she’s hiding?”

  “I don’t know, but my gut tells me it’s definitely something.”

  “Maybe I can find out.”

  “Leave her be,” Russ said so quickly he realized he’d been thinking for a few minutes about warning Matt off. He’d been kidding himself to think he had his attraction to her under control. He didn’t control anything.

  A muscle flexed in his brother’s jaw. “Why should I? You’re not sweet on her.”

  The whole time Russ had been gone, he had told himself he wasn’t thinking of her, wasn’t missing her. It was a lie. She filled up his senses, enough to keep his chest tight since seeing her.

  When Russ didn’t answer, his brother prodded incredulously, “Are you sweet on her?”

  “You just steer clear of those skirts.”

  “Why don’t you call on her?”

  There wasn’t only one reason. And Russ didn’t feel like sharing any of them right now with his brother. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

  “Then why can’t I call on her?”

  “Because I am sure that’s not a good idea.”

  Matt grinned like a fool. “You want to court her.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, you want to do something with her and I’ve got a pretty good idea what.”

  Russ couldn’t defend himself against that. “Shut up,” he muttered.

  Nothing had changed. She still got to him faster than a whirlwind could snuff out a match. He wanted her until his back teeth ached and the fact that she was hiding something was starting to matter less every day.

  Hell, he wasn’t any better off now than he had been before going to Abilene.

  Chapter Ten

  R uss Baldwin made her head spin. It wasn’t only because of the way her body reacted when he was near; it was also because of the way he had tried to protect her feelings. He could dismiss it if he wanted to, but Lydia couldn’t.

  The next day, she was still thinking about what he’d done for her. Russ had wanted to know if her agreement concerning his plan to lease space in the hotel was because she felt guilty about why Mr. Julius had refused to buy into the hotel. It wasn’t, but it wasn’t purely about business, either.

  Knowing what she did now about the man’s refusal to purchase Russ’s interest made it impossible for Lydia to pretend otherwise. She felt something for Russ. Their kissing had sprung the lock on a curiosity about him she’d managed so far to keep in check.

  Thanks to the friendship between their fathers, she knew he had never been married, but why? He liked women, all women.

  And he seemed to feel it was his responsibility alone to pay off the banknote that would save his family’s ranch. Granted, she didn’t know the situation beyond what Russ had told her, but neither his brother nor his father seemed the type to put that responsibility solely on his shoulders.

  His father used a wheelchair, but his accident hadn’t affected his mind in the least. He was still as shrewd and capable as ever. Lydia supposed J.T. could be also trying to find a way to pay the banknote, but she had never gotten that impression.

  She wouldn’t let herself ask Russ for details. That would invite questions about herself, an openness she couldn’t encourage.

  Whether it was due to curiosity or his gallantry, she found herself wanting to see him, to be with him. More than once, she wanted to search him out for no reason. She managed to resist the urge. What she couldn’t control was the hard tug of emotion she felt in her chest the couple of times she did see him.

  With the hotel to comanage and the un
derground network to oversee, she had more than enough to keep her mind off Russ. Still, he was on the edge of her thoughts as she showed Willow around and explained her duties. As she served as lookout late that night when four of the most recent abuse victims slipped out of the hotel and headed for the next safe station.

  It didn’t help her resolve when she caught his gaze on her as she went about her business. His blue eyes were intense, speculative, as if he weren’t sure what to make of her.

  The temptation to ask his thoughts persisted, but she didn’t give in to it. She managed to keep to herself until the next morning.

  Standing on the hotel’s balcony, Lydia struggled to contain her panic and a numbing fear. The sharp glare of the midmorning sun slanted across Main Street and the buildings on either side. She stared down at the telegram she had been handed by Tony Santos only minutes before. Philip had disappeared.

  Her parents had kept her informed about her wounded brother-in-law since she and Naomi fled Mississippi. One of Lydia’s parents checked on DeBoard every day, reporting on his still-serious condition. Yesterday, he hadn’t been at the huge home her sister had managed, where her abusive husband had murdered her. Where Lydia had hoped Philip might die from the wounds Naomi had inflicted on him in self-defense.

  Her parents believed he had hidden the extent of his recovery and had left under his own steam. DeBoard was missing and Lydia’s father had no idea where the bastard could have gone.

  She had to tell Naomi, but right now, Lydia felt as though her legs might fold like those of a new colt.

  The cold air stung her cheeks as she stared absently at the people moving about Whirlwind. She stayed in the shadows, under the eaves with the limestone wall at her back for support. Another glance at the paper she held in her unsteady hand had her trying to breathe past the sharp tightness in her chest.

  Upon reading the message, Lydia’s first impulse had been to grab Naomi and flee somewhere else, but common sense won out. If Philip had disappeared yesterday, there was no way he could find them in Whirlwind today, even if he knew exactly where to look. Lydia knew she and Naomi needed a plan, then if they had to run, they could make a quick getaway. Maybe even hide at the hotel or another safe station.

  She hated DeBoard for making her afraid, for what he’d done to Isabel and Naomi.

  For an instant, rage engulfed her, then fear and a suffocating sense of being targeted crashed down on her. Tears stung her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

  “Ah, I thought I saw you up here.”

  Russ. Foot! She quickly dashed a hand beneath her eyes.

  “What are you doing out in the cold?”

  She turned to face him with a wobbly smile. He had used the door that led there from the second floor hallway. “Nothing.”

  His gaze shifted to Main Street then back to her, searching her face. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes.” She gave a shaky laugh and hoped he didn’t look too closely at her.

  She had managed to keep him from finding out about the women hiding right under his nose. She could hide this from him, too.

  He scowled. “Where’s your coat?”

  For the first time, she felt the chill sink into her bones. “I hadn’t planned to be out here long.”

  “It’s cold enough to freeze the horns off one of my pa’s longhorns.” Russ reached back to open the door. “Come inside before you turn blue.”

  “All right.” She crumpled the message in her hand, fighting to compose herself.

  She didn’t want Russ to know she was upset. He would ask questions, and Lydia wasn’t sure she could put him off. She pasted a pleasant expression on her face as she walked past him and into the hotel.

  The hotel’s moist heat made her aware of just how cold she was. Her skin felt tight as she rubbed her arms.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Russ swiftly closed the door.

  “Yes.” She smiled in his direction.

  He looked doubtful. She headed for the staircase leading to her rooms on the third floor.

  “I talked to Josie. She wants a space downstairs.”

  She turned on unsteady legs. “Oh, very good.”

  “Jericho’s interested, too.” Searching her face, Russ stepped closer. “In fact, Jed Doyle is thinking about selling his gunsmith business to Jericho.”

  “That’s nice.” She wished Russ would go away. He was too close, too strong, making her painfully aware that she was holding on to her composure by the skin of her teeth.

  “Our new tenants want to move in as soon as possible.”

  Lydia nodded. She should’ve asked that, but her mind was on stall. All she could think about was Philip showing up here, trying to kill her and Naomi. Oh, why couldn’t Russ leave her alone before she burst into tears like a ninny?

  Looking solemn, his gaze slid over her. “I thought you’d be more taken with the news.”

  She felt as though she might unravel, the way she’d felt after she and Naomi had escaped Philip and they had finally realized the reality of what had happened. Her stomach churned.

  If she didn’t get away from Russ right now, she was going to come apart at the seams. She couldn’t look at him or she would give in to the urge to blurt out what was wrong.

  “It’s wonderful news,” she said over her shoulder, focused on reaching her rooms. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to take care of something.”

  “All right,” Russ said slowly.

  A ball of emotion lodged in her chest, expanding until she felt as though her heart might crack open. She had one foot on the bottom stair when his big warm hand closed over her elbow.

  “Lydia?”

  A choked sound came out. She couldn’t help it.

  “What’s going on?” Concern threaded his words.

  She shook her head, angry at the tears blurring her sight, at herself for not being able to escape him before she started bawling like a baby. “Nothing.”

  “Bull.”

  He shouldn’t be touching her. Not when even the smallest movement might destroy her crumbling control.

  “You haven’t drawn an easy breath since I found you. You’re shaking.” He gently, but firmly turned her toward him. His work-roughened fingers stroked up the back of her arm as he urged her closer. “What’s happened?”

  The question nearly broke her. She shouldn’t tell him anything, but she couldn’t face Naomi this way.

  He lifted her right hand, looked at the paper she had wadded into a ball. “What is that?”

  “It’s a message from my parents.” Fear pushed the words past her tight throat. “My brother-in-law has disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” He frowned. “Do they suspect foul play? Is someone looking for him?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her voice was high and taut with the effort to keep from screaming out in pure rage. She couldn’t stop a tear of anger. “I hope they find him and—”

  “And what?”

  Kill him.

  “And what, Lydia?” Russ’s hold tightened slightly. “Sugar, you’re scared about something.”

  She looked into his blue eyes, coaxed by the concern there, the patience. “He killed my sister.”

  Russ ushered her into the nearest empty guest room. He closed the door, but he didn’t release her as she expected.

  Instead, he took one of her hands in his and placed both on his chest, then he splayed his free hand on her back. “Tell me.”

  “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “I have things like that, too, but telling somebody might be good.” He thumbed away a tear she hadn’t been aware of crying.

  “It’s about Isabel. When I talk about her, the pain starts fresh all over again.” And the loneliness, the guilt. Lydia looked down, touched the timepiece pinned to her bodice. “All I have left of her is this watch and the earrings I wore to the Grand Opening.”

  Russ squeezed her hand, waited.

  Lydia knew she should step away, but she couldn’t. S
he didn’t want to. All the fear, grief and fury she had felt since Isabel’s death crashed together in an overwhelming wave and she pressed closer to the big man holding her.

  The words tumbled out. “My brother-in-law, Philip DeBoard, beat her. Isabel died after he shoved her down the stairs during one of his rages.”

  Russ brushed his thumb across her knuckles, listening quietly.

  “The people who knew she was being abused looked the other way. The DeBoards are wealthy and well established in the area. Isabel wouldn’t tell me the truth when I asked her about it. That’s why I—”

  “Why you what?” he asked softly.

  She’d nearly told him about getting involved with the underground network. “That’s why I…feel guilty.”

  He nodded.

  “Naomi was her maid and she tried to help my sister, but there was only so much she could do. After Isabel died, my parents and I tried to get Naomi to come live with us, but she wouldn’t. Finally, she agreed and the day I went to pick her up—” Lydia’s voice broke.

  Russ waited patiently.

  After a moment, she continued, “Philip was beating her. He had tried to rape her and she fought back. Before Isabel died, I began carrying a derringer when I went to her home, but before I could shoot, Naomi stabbed him with a pitchfork.”

  As Lydia wiped away her tears, Russ reached in the back pocket of his trousers and held out a worn black bandanna. “It looks ragged, but it’s clean.”

  “Thanks.” She took it, dabbing at her eyes as she continued her story. “We thought he was dead. Once Naomi and I got back to my parents’ house, my father urged us to go on to Whirlwind.”

  “So, that’s why you were here early,” he murmured.

  She nodded, drawing in his dark male scent. “We packed a wagon and left that night, stopping only when we had to. Naomi’s ribs were broken so we couldn’t travel very fast. When I wired my father to see what been done about DeBoard, he told me Philip wasn’t dead, but gravely injured and not expected to live.”