Lost Fortune (The Unbridled Series Book 1)

by Sandra E Sinclair

  It made Rilla think how life was much easier when she was a child. She exhaled, and drew a deep breath back in, relishing the scented air. Before the day was done, she would make a decision, she just needed to speak to Jewel first. If she was going overseas to teach, she would be leaving behind the one constant in her life since the age of ten.

  Chapter 17

  The shadow behind Rilla’s eyelids deepened to black. Her eyes flew open, thinking it was a rain cloud, only to see Cal Dalton looming over her. He had a bunch of flowers tied with a yellow ribbon in his hand, his hat clutched tightly in his other hand, and his hair slicked to his head. Gone was the wild mass of unruly hair she’d come to associate with him and a style she realized she preferred.

  He stood there grinning down at her. Rilla fixed her skirt which had climbed up to her knees, and sat upright, her cheeks warmer than the sun. That he should see her so revealed was embarrassing.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now. But I came to tell you Mr. Worthington is in town, and he might come calling.”

  “And did he send you with those ugly flowers?”

  Cal’s smile melted from his lips. He shifted his gaze from her, down to his boots and placed the flowers into his other hand, behind his hat, then rubbed his neck. Eyes still downcast, he said, “No, ma’am, I picked out these ugly flowers myself. The woman who sold them to me said they were all the rage.”

  His head snapped up to gaze on her as her laughter reached his ears. His grin returned, and he stared down at her.

  Rilla patted the grass next to her. “I reckon she saw you coming. You may as well take a load off, and sit next to me. My reputation couldn’t get any worse once my brother opens his big mouth.”

  “I don’t understand. Should I leave?”

  “No, stay. Sit down, you're giving me a crick in my neck.”

  Cal did as he was told.

  “Your news would have been more helpful if you’d delivered it a couple of hours ago,” she said, picking at the grass, and letting the blades slither through her fingers.

  “Are you saying he's already been here?”

  “Yes, he’s been, and now he's gone.” She giggled, a dry sound as she raised her finger in the air. “However, not before leaving me with a parting gift.”

  “A gift? What did he give you?” Cal cocked his head.

  “Oh, you’re going to love this.” She chuckled but there was no humor in the sound.

  “He gave me two whole days…two days—before he shares with everyone in town the truth about me and my parents. So you see, you’ve done a great job of aiding my brother in my destruction. Thank you, and if that’s all you came for, I bid you good day, sir.” Rilla stood, fighting back the tears suddenly obstructing her vision.

  Not realizing Cal stood too and was now in front of her, she slammed into his broad, hard chest. Tear filled eyes met his, and he sucked in an audible breath, running his fingers through his greased down hair, messing it up—before grabbing her wrists, and placing them on his chest.

  He stepped back to look at her. She pulled in her bottom lip so he wouldn’t see it quivering. Not totally sure if it was the thought of being an outcast or his nearness that made her tremble. But she didn’t fight him for release, she was tired of fighting, mentally and physically. In truth, she didn’t know if she had any fight left in her.

  Cal pulled her into his chest and laid his chin on her head. One of his hands pressed into the small of her back, keeping her close to him. “I’m sorry, Rilla, I truly am. If I’d known what the outcome of this investigation was going to be, I never would have taken the case. I hate myself more than you could ever hate me. I did this to you, and I’ll find a way to make it right. I promise you.”

  “No one can make it right.”

  “I will, trust me, I’ll fix this.”

  She pulled away from him. His scent and nearness confused her. She needed a clear head. “What are you going to do, Mr. Dalton? Go back in time, become a justice of the peace and marry my parents? That’s the only way to make this right. Go away, Mr. Dalton.” She pushed him away from her. Tears lined her cheeks as she raced back into the house.

  Late into the evening, Jewel found Rilla face down, lying on her bed. At first Rilla pretended to be asleep. She knew maybe it wasn’t fair, but she was mad at Jewel. Rilla had been waiting to speak to her friend all afternoon, and Jewel was only now wanting to talk with her, after she’d already written a letter for the governess job overseas.

  Well, it was too late. All Jewel could do for her now was write her a letter of reference, then join the rest of them and stand in front of a carriage and wait for it to hit them. She’d prayed on it. She could fend for herself.

  “Rilla, I know you’re awake. We shared a room for eight years. You snore, so stop pretending.” Jewel took a seat on the end of Rilla’s bed. Her weight sank into the mattress.

  “Go away. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

  “I know you’re angry with me, but I thought it best to settle the girls so we wouldn’t be disturbed. Pigeuron told me what happened this morning.”

  Rilla flipped onto her back. “I’ve sorted it all out by myself. I’m going overseas to become a governess. I’m leaving America, and I’m never coming back. You can send me photographs of your children as I will never have any of my own.”

  “Stop being so melodramatic.”

  Rilla clenched her fist and beat down on the mattress. “What is it with everyone today? Do you all think I have no control over my life? There’s Wyatt, my horrid brother who thinks he can speak to me as he likes. Then that idiot Cal, who thinks he can fix the mess he made of my life. And now you, my best friend, tells me my life is a play of tragedy. Well, let me assure all of you, no one decides my life but me, and I’m telling you…it is decided. I’m going away.”

  “Are you quite finished? I think I found the solution to your problem.”

  Wide eyed, and openmouthed, Rilla scurried to the end of the bed and sat beside Jewel, gripping her hand. The weight on her shoulders lifted.

  “You have? I knew you would. Tell me this instant, what can I do to save myself? I’ll do anything.”

  “You gave me the answer just now.”

  “I did? Oh, you mean my plan to go overseas.” The weight was back, her head sagged, and her shoulders drooped.

  “No, not that, silly. Why would I want you to go away from me? No, the answer is to marry Cal. He’s single, therefore available. Also, he already knows the truth about you. I can see no better match.”

  “Judas? You want me to marry Judas?” The room spun and Rilla was finding it hard to breath. Jewel had lost her mind. There was no other reason for it. She had to be insane if she thought Cal was a good match for her. She couldn’t trust him as a friend, why would she trust him as a husband? “You think that Judas is a good match for me?” She couldn’t help it; her voice rose an octave.

  “Yes, I do. We can use his guilt against him. He wants to fix the problem he caused, now he can.”

  “Will I have to share with him the details of the will?” Rilla asked grudgingly. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Jewel had a point. He was most contrite this afternoon. This was all his fault. Who else better was there to suffer with her.

  “I think if we really want to force his hand, we have to. It’s not like he doesn’t already know about the gold mine.”

  “That’s true, let me sleep on it.”

  “Good, now since that’s settled, we need to get some food inside you. Pigeuron said you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Well I am, and I left my dinner so we could dine together, now get up and join me. Or should I go to bed hungry because of you?”

  “All right.” As they went down to dinner, Rilla said a silent prayer. Dear God, about the carriage, can you please remove Jewel from the list. Oh, and Cal too. I can’t marry him if he's dead.

>   Chapter 18

  Cal had watched with a lump in his throat as Rilla ran out of his life and into her house, seething. Something had to be done about Wyatt, and soon. The way she’d looked at him made him want to throw up. It would have been easier to take if he’d seen hate in her eyes—but disappointment was a killer, and he was dying.

  Cal shook his head. He’d made her cry, and that was unforgivable. He was a monster, a bigger monster than her jackass of a brother. He'd given Wyatt everything he needed to destroy the only woman he’d ever had real feelings for. He needed to see Wyatt and get him to back off. Not today however.

  If he saw that low down, yellow-livered, dog’s dinner today, he couldn't promise he wouldn’t put more holes in him than the ones in his mother’s pincushion. The man deserved nothing less.

  He’d wanted to ask Rilla what else the gutter rat had said to her, but she'd ran off. Cal had stared at the flowers in his hand, and harrumphed. He’d been an idiot to think flowers would solve his problem and get him back in her good graces. He had to do something practical, but what? Angry with himself, he’d hurled the flowers over his head. They hit a passer-by who had yelled at Cal.

  Cal had growled, narrowed his eyes, and turned to face the stranger. Who, then had taken one look at his face and begun to apologize—to him—for getting in the way of the plants Cal had thrown. The stranger had quickened his stride.

  Maybe after he’d threatened Wyatt with a fate worse than death he could call on her and tell her what he'd done. He knew that was a stupid idea, though, and a little juvenile, even for him. He just had to find a way to make her love him and forget his betrayal. If he'd only asked her about everything before letting his feelings get the better of him, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Even his nephew would have had better sense, and he was knee high to a grasshopper.

  Cal entered the hotel through the saloon entrance under a thundercloud, and ordered a bottle of whiskey. He told the bartender to have the bottle sent to his room.

  “Make sure to tell your staff after they've dropped off the bottle to lock me in my room if you don’t want me to go gun blazing through this place, and kill half of your customers. The way I’m feelin’, it just might happen. I’m in the mood for killing, and at this point I don't rightly care who I shoot today. So I reckon you’d better save yourself and the people you have working for you. Make sure and heed my warning because after I get done shooting y’all, I’m going to find me that yellow-bellied snake and use my knife on him slow and easy like.”

  That’s right, Cal took out his knife to demonstrate how he intended to cut Wyatt. The idea tickled him, and he started to laugh. After he’d done murdering folks in the saloon, Wyatt would be next. Of course, this was just pride and soreness talking. It made him feel a whole lot better killing folks in his mind.

  All he really wanted was to go to his room, and drink until he passed out. Then when he woke up, he could figure what he should do to not mess up his life even further, like threatening the entire saloon—especially when the owner replied.

  “Would you be needing us to chain you to the bed as well, sir? I don’t believe anyone here wants to be ducking the bullets you’re threatening to shoot at them.”

  If he thought his big mouth and loud talking was going to win him any favors in this fine establishment, he was wrong. Everyone was looking at him like he was a crazy person. And by definition he was crazy. Crazy in love with no place to direct it. He grabbed the bottle the bartender pushed toward him, grunted something inaudible and stomped his way up the back stairs. No room service for him.

  He drank the moonshine they tried to pawn off on this Southern boy as whiskey—until his sight got blurry, and his gut was on fire. Good, he needed to suffer. He threw up in a bucket, then fell face down onto his bed where he stayed until the next morning.

  Washed and shaved, he went down to breakfast—praying that no one remembered his childlike temper tantrum from the day before. He pushed forward, hugging his head, the pain was maddening, but he suffered in silence because nothing could compare to the tear in his heart. He wasn't shouting about it, and never would.

  After he’d eaten, he’d go seek out that dirty scoundrel, Wyatt and have it out with him, tell him to leave Rilla alone. Cal was prepared to offer Wyatt money if he had to. After all, Cal had more money than he knew what to do with. He’d finished his meal, and was feeling better for it. He was about to leave the eating area and return to his room, when he heard a voice he recognized.

  It was Wyatt, he may as well have that talk with him now. It was as good a time as any. He froze in place when he also heard the voice of a woman. It was an older woman, and he guessed it must be Odum’s mother. His suspicions were confirmed when Wyatt spoke.

  “Please, come this way, Mrs. Woolum. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. Can I treat you to some breakfast?”

  “Well, your message made it sound urgent. I came straightaway when I heard where you were staying, and yes I’d love to join you for breakfast. I’ve never eaten in here before. I hear tell it’s fine dining at this hotel. Your message said you wanted to talk about Miss Staab. Is there something wrong with my son’s fiancée?”

  “I’ll let you be the judge of that after you hear what I have to say.”

  Wyatt hadn't seen Cal, so he moved a little closer, and lingered behind to hear what he had to say. Cal worked his jaw and cricked his neck, balling his fist as he willed them to stay at his side. How could Wyatt go back on his promise? Wyatt Worthington was a man without honor.

  Rilla had told Cal; Wyatt had given her two days. Yet here he was talking to the mother of her fiancé, telling her Rilla was his sister. It was plain to see he had no intention of keeping his word. From what Cal could make out, Wyatt didn't tell Mrs. Woolum what trade Rilla's mother was in, but how Cal saw it, he might as well have had.

  Wyatt told Mrs. Woolum his mother was married to his father, and he was the only child from their union. How his poor, dear mother had died from shame and a broken heart thirteen years ago. It didn't take much to figure out what he was implying, even for this dim-witted woman.

  Cal reached for his holster and sighed. Just as well he'd left his gun in the room. There’s no telling what he was capable of.

  He needed to keep a cool head. Get himself together with a hot bath, and head over to Rilla's place. Make it there before this gasping, hand waving woman, with her handkerchief barely covering her wide, opened mouth, her cheeks red and bloated, as if she’d been kicked in the face by a mule did. A rattling sound left her lips, then she swooned and collapsed in a far from graceful heap onto the ground.

  No doubt the wedding was off.

  Cal felt bad as his heart skipped with joy and fluttered like butterflies in his chest. He knew it was wrong to feel happy that Rilla wouldn’t be joined to the man she loved. Even if he didn't think Odum Woolum was right for her, it wasn't his decision to make, it was hers. No doubt about it, she’d be devastated.

  Forget taking a bath, he needed to leave now.

  Chapter 19

  “If this is going to work. We have to make the idea seem as if it came from him,” Pigeuron said. His chubby fingers strummed the table top as the fingers of his other hand scraped against his cheek and chin. He told them in no uncertain terms he was opposed to the idea of Rilla marrying Mr. Dalton.

  His primary concern was whether or not Mr. Dalton would acquiesce, the role he played was a significant one, regardless as to whether or not they did. However, he did admit the plan was sound after Jewel tore down his every objection. Rilla was so proud of her friend and her negotiation skills.

  “If we’re all in agreement, the next step will be to get him here so we can make him offer up his hand in marriage,” Jewel said, popping a piece of buttered bread into her mouth. With a satisfied smile upon her lips, Rilla was sure it was not brought about by the tasty morsel she’d just consumed.

  Rilla lowered her gaze as she remembered her discourteou
s behavior toward Mr. Dalton. It was a titbit she had yet to share with the other two sitting at the breakfast table. Her actions may have inadvertently lay waste to their plan. She cleared her throat. “I must confess. I'm not sure if he will be as eager as you two may think in asking for my hand. I was extremely rude to him yesterday. I insulted his gift and left him standing alone in the garden.”

  “Why didn't you say something sooner?” Pigeuron said, puffing.

  It was difficult to believe he was only eating breakfast. The sounds he emitted would have anyone believing he was engaged in a brisk walk around the ground, rather than sipping tea out of a bone china cup.

  He fingers looked awkward as he cocked his pinky finger in the air. It could be likened to a short plump mystery, no different from the ones on his breakfast plate. A tender morsel he seemed to favor greatly, judging by the amount he'd stacked onto his plate.

  “Well, with this new piece of information, we may have to rethink this,” Pigeuron said, through various pauses in his chewing. Rilla closed her eyes. The man's table manners were dubious.

  “I think the best way to do this is by direct means. We will have to invite him here for dinner, and then carefully but quite deliberately broach the topic of Rilla’s current plight. Gauge his reaction and see what we can successfully get him to commit to. What we need from him can be secured by you, Mr Pigeuron, man to man,” Jewel said.

  A sudden commotion by the door of the breakfast parlor commanded the attention of everyone in the room. The maid came into the parlor, followed by the man whose name had taken up most of their morning conversation.

  Cal Dalton appeared disgruntled, his less than ceremonious entrance into the room noted.

  “I’m sorry to barge in like this unannounced, but I’m in most desperate need of speaking with Miss Rilla,” Cal said, removing his hat.