The American Heiress Brides Collection

by Carter, Lisa; Davis, Mary; Dietze, Susanne

  “So what’s the trouble? Why don’t you just take her back to Denver?”

  “Therein lies the problem. I must finish all the legalities up here. The Abbots were prepared to leave while I handled everything else. Only the three lawyers tasked with Abbot business are allowed to transact and sign—and as you well know—I’m the only one here. The mines are not all transferred yet, and Alaska is a territory—out of the country to the banks back in Denver. It will take at least two weeks for me to finish all the financial and legal obligations. We don’t have that much time.” Dillard shook his head. “It seemed simple to me—postpone the business dealings even though we might lose many of the mines, take Mary Margaret back to Colorado, and then return up here—but Miss Abbot refused. She said we would be letting her father down, so she’s got this cockamamie plan to go by herself—to which I put my foot down and refused.”

  Charles nodded but didn’t understand why the lawyer would need to tell him all this.

  Mr. Dillard paced. “I’m afraid that whoever is out to get rid of Miss Abbot is expecting this very thing. They’re hoping that I won’t accompany her—not that I could offer all that much protection. And she will fall into their hands.” He pulled out two pieces of paper. “Look. I’ve had a private investigator working in Denver for two years—watching the sisters’ husbands. He intercepted and copied these two telegrams.”

  Charles took the papers and scanned them.

  NO RETURN FOR THE PAIR TO COLORADO stop

  YOUR PRICE IS ACCEPTABLE stop

  With the background Mr. Dillard gave him, Charles could imagine how the telegrams were interpreted as threatening. “This is grave indeed. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with me? Do you need my help in some way?”

  “I apologize. Let me get to that. I need to stay and handle things, but I will ask my office to send someone to replace me immediately. But it’s unacceptable for Miss Abbot to go alone until I can reach her. That’s where you come in. You are the only man that I know up here that is trustworthy. Mr. Abbot held a deep respect for you. So, I’m going to offer you a deal. We are willing to sign over this mine completely to you—with the equipment we’ve already purchased—if you will accompany Miss Abbot back to Denver and act as her bodyguard.”

  Johnny bent over the table and studied the layout of the harbor. He’d paid a pretty penny for the information, but it would be worth it.

  Clive bit into his fried chicken and pointed with a greasy finger. “What’s yer plan this time?”

  “I ain’t the one who missed outside the hotel. So don’t mouth off to me.” He swept his arm and knocked Clive’s plate off the table. Was it even worth it to have this idiot involved?

  “Hey! I paid good money for that.”

  “Yeah, money I gave ya. Learn some manners, why don’tcha?” Johnny straightened himself and fixed his cuffs. After watching the fancy men for days, he wanted to behave like them. He’d be rich soon, and he’d have to show them all who was boss. “The plan is to disable the engine. Delay them so they have to stay another night. I got a maid at the hotel willing to help us.” He walked across to the window. “Then we just figure out some way to kill the rich lady in her sleep.”

  Chapter 4

  Hands on her hips, Mary Margaret paced the floor of the hotel room in front of Uncle Dillard. “I don’t see why I can’t just hire a maid to go with me.” Yes, she was angry—furious actually—and taking it out on the poor man. But her uncle had sought out someone to escort her home without even asking her opinion.

  Underneath the anger though, there was more … she hurt. Ached. Grieved the loss of Father. And no matter what predicament they were in, she didn’t believe it warranted her needing to deal with a man she barely knew while she mourned.

  It was all too much.

  “That’s unacceptable and you know it.” The man looked as if he’d aged ten years in the past few days. “Whether you admit it or not, you’re in more danger than you realize. Even if I were escorting you home, I’d hire someone to help protect us.”

  She plopped into a wingback chair. Very unladylike, but she didn’t care. “But why Mr. Delaney? I’ve only met him the one time, and I don’t believe I made the best first impression, which would make for a very uncomfortable trip.”

  “Uncomfortable or not doesn’t matter. Your father trusted the man. We know everything there is to know about him, and he will be able to protect you. That’s all that matters.”

  “I still don’t like it.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. She hated sounding like a whiny child, but she’d buried her father just that morning. All she really wanted to do was curl up in a ball on her bed and cry. Her life would never be the same. “Why can’t I just wait for you to finish?”

  He walked over to her and took her hand. “Because you might miss the deadline, and your father’s holdings would be lost.” A knock at the door tore his attention away.

  Even though he was right, she didn’t want to admit it. Whether she liked it or not, it appeared she would be traveling with Mr. Delaney to Colorado.

  If the trip didn’t upset her enough, the thought of facing her sisters and their husbands made her want to run away to Canada and never return. Martha and Mabel were sure to make life miserable the instant Mary Margaret set foot in Denver. The two were thick as thieves and just as conniving.

  Then there was the fact that Father wouldn’t be with her. She’d never faced them without him. And what about their wretched husbands? How would she keep them at bay?

  “I have an idea.” Dillard stood before her. “This telegram just arrived. It appears the firm is working on several matters on their end, and a replacement is already on the way up here.” He tapped the paper to his chin. “What if I initiated a rumor in town about how difficult this is for you and that you won’t leave without me? We might draw out the killer. I could appeal to the local law enforcement and see if they can apprehend the man. Meanwhile, you and Delaney head out on the steamship for Prince Rupert in Canada. You can rest and hide there a few days to see if I can catch up. We could all travel together from there. But if I’m not there by say, the fifteenth, you all go on without me.”

  It wasn’t her first choice, but it was better than going the entire trip without him. “I guess … if we must.”

  He placed his hands behind his back and walked to the door. “Good. I’ll get a maid to help you finish packing and arrange for transportation down to the dock. Mr. Delaney should be here soon.” Uncle Dillard turned and looked back to her. “It’ll be all right. I’ll feel much safer once you are on your way.”

  When the door clicked shut behind him, Mary Margaret collapsed back into the chair. Everything from the past few days washed over her. While she understood the gravity of the situation, her heart refused to believe it.

  Numb. That’s how she felt. Father was gone and he wouldn’t be coming back. What good was it for her to inherit everything if she couldn’t share it with her best friend? She had no one else. Not a single friend or even family member that she could trust with the depths of her heart.

  Another knock at the door preceded a maid’s entrance. “Miss, I’m here to help you pack.”

  Mary Margaret took a shaky breath. “Thank you. Please go ahead and finish this trunk. I’ll fetch my valise out of the other room.”

  When she was once again alone, she allowed the tears to flow.

  The docks teemed with noise and unwashed bodies. Mr. Delaney towered above her on one side, while Uncle Dillard stood on the other. The day was a horrible blur. Beginning with the burial of her father and ending with a good-bye to the only other person she knew up here.

  Dillard moved forward. “I’ll go find out if they are ready for you to board.”

  Fiddlesticks. Now she was alone with the big bodyguard. Hopefully, he wouldn’t want to talk—

  “I’m sorry about your father.”

  Even though his voice was soothing, his kind words did nothing to help the rough places
around her heart. To be frank, she’d prefer not to hear anyone else be sorry for her loss. But she should at least show him manners. “Thank you.”

  “I know he was the best of men.”

  “Yes, he was.” Now could the big man please be quiet?

  “I’m honored that he chose me to manage his mines.”

  Apparently not. “Uh-huh.” She turned her face away from him.

  He leaned over into her peripheral vision. “Are you all right?”

  Exasperating man. Why couldn’t he just leave her be? Despite her every effort, more tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She’d cried enough today for a lifetime and didn’t need the man beside her to think any less of her. With a swallow and a deep breath, she found her voice. “I’m fine.”

  Abrupt. To the point. If she could keep him from talking to her for the next few weeks, they’d do just fine.

  “Well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  No, she did not. Would not. Ever. She sighed. How did she get into this mess?

  Mr. Dillard stomped toward them, a storm brewing on his brow. “It would seem there’s damage to the steam engine. And we cannot afford the delay. There isn’t another ship for two days.”

  Was it terrible that she thought of that as good news?

  Mr. Talkative crossed his arms. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Well, since it’s too late in the day to do much, I think we should go back to the hotel and formulate a new plan.”

  “All right then.” Mr. Delaney offered her his elbow.

  At least she could go to bed. Maybe sleep would claim her and she wouldn’t have to face the coming weeks.

  A scraping sound brought Charles awake. Not that he slept all that well on a divan that was three feet too short for his frame. But all seemed quiet. He’d been dreaming about the decision he’d made that day and felt a little guilty. Was it wrong for him to choose the path with the largest profit? Dillard agreed that Jasper could know he needed to take a business trip and that he would be the mine’s owner when he returned. Jasper had understood and rejoiced with him, but Charles still wished he could be there to see the boys hit the big payout. They were so close—he could feel it. But it wasn’t likely he could get back for at least five weeks.

  Thump!

  Where had that noise come from? He sat up and wiped a hand down his face.

  Two more thumps.

  From Mary Margaret’s bedroom. He jerked his head toward her door. The living area where he slept sat in the middle with Mr. Dillard sleeping in the room her father had occupied on the other side.

  In his stocking feet, he headed for the room. Maybe she was having a nightmare?

  Three rapid thumps. He ran—she could yell at him later for the unseemliness, but his gut told him something wasn’t right.

  Storming through the door, Charles was shocked to see a shadowy figure hovering over Miss Abbot’s bed. A breeze blew in from the open window. The figure threw something down, ran to the window, and jumped out.

  Charles pursued but tripped over a pillow in the dark room—the killer’s choice of weapon?—and fell hard. By the time he reached the window, the figure was gone.

  All the air had gone out of him. Mr. Dillard hadn’t been overly cautious. He’d been right.

  He turned toward the bed and heard footsteps from behind. “Are you all right?”

  Mr. Dillard turned on the lights, and Charles got a good look at her face.

  White as a sheet, Mary Margaret sat on her bed. Eyes wide and hair disheveled. “I … I don’t know. It all occurred so fast.” Gone was the grieving woman from the docks who’d been trying to hold it together. Gone was the businesslike lady from the mine. And in her place sat a small and terrified, young-looking girl.

  Dillard went to her side. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “I woke up with a pillow being pressed over my face.” Her voice wobbled. “I couldn’t breathe. I tried to get free and make noise … but …” She sucked in a big breath and looked straight into Charles’s eyes. “If … if Mr. Delaney hadn’t heard, I … I …”

  The older man patted her hand. “It’s all right. You’re all right now.” But his expression to Charles told a different story. Fear etched a few more lines into the man’s brow. “Thank you, Charles.”

  “Yes, thank you … you … you saved my life.” Miss Abbot took in a deep breath.

  Dillard stood up straight. “Let’s give you a minute to compose yourself. Mr. Delaney and I will wait for you in the living area.”

  Miss Abbot nodded.

  The feeling that settled into Charles’s chest wasn’t describable. He didn’t want to leave her alone, she looked shaken to her core—who could blame her? The giant bed swallowed her and she seemed … so very fragile. He had the urge to wrap her up and protect her for the rest of her life.

  Chapter 5

  You want me to do what?” Wrapped in a blanket on the divan, Mary Margaret was certain she hadn’t heard correctly. Her whole body shook. While it had been easy to ignore the reality before, now … well, it was a different story. But she wasn’t up for this. Not at all.

  Uncle Dillard stood in front of her, his hands behind his back. He looked over at Mr. Delaney, but the other man just shrugged and nodded. “Charles and I both think that it would be best to disguise you.”

  “By dressing like a boy?” She couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice. Granted she’d thought just the other day about how life would have been easier on her father if she’d been born a boy—but heavens—she didn’t mean it. Especially not now. Not with Father gone. She was very much his little girl. And she missed him so much.

  Uncle Dillard cleared his throat. “Mary Margaret, this is very difficult. I know you’ve been through a lot. We’re not trying to upset—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. Miss Abbot—Mary Margaret, may I call you that?” Tall Mr. Delaney crouched down in front of her. Invading her space.

  She blinked. Then nodded and leaned as far back into the settee as she could.

  “Mary Margaret.” Something in his eyes calmed her. That same look she’d seen before. Steadfast and strong. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for discussion on this. Your life is in danger, and we need to leave before sunrise. As uncomfortable as it is, I think you are small enough of stature to pass as my younger brother. We could cover you in clothes that are too big and hide your hair under a hat. It would be appropriate for us to travel together, and you wouldn’t have to handle anything. I’ll take care of it so you don’t have to talk to anyone. Even me.” His eyes held a twinkle. Had he known her thoughts earlier?

  “All right.” How did Mr. Talkative convince her so quickly? “But I thought there wasn’t another boat for two days?”

  Charles stayed crouched in front of her. And she had to admit, she liked his presence. “There isn’t. But Mr. Dillard has found a man with a skiff that is heading to Hobart Bay. He will pick us—me and my little brother—up there in two days and take us to Prince Rupert.”

  She shook her head. “Wait a minute … why isn’t he just taking us from here?”

  “He can’t. His skiff is full.” Charles inched forward, his voice low and calm like she was a skittish animal about to flee. “Besides, we are afraid there are people watching the docks for you. It’ll be safer for us to head out on foot.”

  “On foot? Are you mad?” Maybe fleeing wasn’t such a bad idea. “First you want me to dress like a boy, and then you want me to ‘head out on foot’? What about my trunks?”

  Charles sighed and looked down at the floor. “Mr. Dillard will have to take them with him.”

  She’d almost forgotten her uncle was in the room. As she shifted her gaze to him, she saw the apologetic look on his face. Full of sorrow. And weariness. Why hadn’t she noticed the toll this had taken on the man? Glancing from one man to the other, her heart sank. They were trying to protect her. The least she could do was buck up and carry on. What did it m
atter that she didn’t have her hats, gloves, gowns, parasols, and other things? What did any of it matter if she couldn’t make it home alive?

  Uncle Dillard came forward and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Your father would be so proud of you, Mary Margaret. This isn’t easy. But you’re an heiress. To quite a substantial fortune. And you are so brave to endure all this to save your father’s legacy. You knew his wishes as well as I—he wouldn’t want them to win … and he would want you alive.”

  Charles stood and placed a hand on her other shoulder. “We’re going to make sure you get to Denver before the deadline. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”

  She nodded. A rush of emotion overwhelmed her—with Father gone—the thought of going home sounded horrible. And lonesome.

  One look at Charles and she knew he meant every word.

  But who would protect her once she got home?

  In the early morning hours, Charles realized his plan to leave in the middle of the night wasn’t going to happen. Mary Margaret had other ideas. Like making sure they had food and necessities packed. Which was wise since they would be off the beaten path, but that hadn’t been his first concerns. Then she closed herself up in her room to try on different clothes. She’d been in there an hour already. He checked his timepiece again.

  Dillard paced the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Charles hadn’t known the man long but had picked up on his quirks. One was pacing. Same expression. Same hands behind his back. And when he did that, it meant he was worried.