Abducted at the Altar

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Abducted at the Altar Page 16

by Charlene Sands


  “Having trouble?”

  Dorie whirled around to find Shane’s lazy, liquor-shaded eyes upon her. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink while eyeing her from head to toe. His leisurely perusal reminded her of last night, when he’d nearly made love to her. He had the same look in his eyes now.

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Good,” he said, gazing at her with those narrowed green eyes. He sipped again from the bottle.

  Dorie raised her brows. She walked over to him and took the bottle out of his hands. When she glared at him, he smiled.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “I hope so.”

  Dorie breathed in deeply. She counted to three just like Mrs. Whitaker told her to do when she wanted to scream. She spoke slowly, with as much patience as she could manage. “We have to meet the Parkers at the stagecoach depot at ten o’clock. Henry is bringing Jeremiah there to meet up with us.”

  “What time is it now?”

  “Eight-thirty.”

  “I’ll be there. Give me some time.”

  “Shane, about last night—”

  “I’m trying to forget last night.” Shane closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair. “You got any more secrets I should know about?”

  Dorie hesitated.

  Shane opened his eyes. “Well?”

  “Well, uh, it’s not a secret or anything. But I’ve got to find some way to get the gowns to Mrs. Miniver’s House.”

  Shane looked her up and down again as if puzzling something out. “How’d you do it the other times?”

  “They’d, uh, send someone to meet me at a location. I’d give them the trunk, and wait. If all went well, then they’d return the trunk to me with my payment.”

  “Where would you meet?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Shane leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He looked up at her. “Another secret, Dorie?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’d meet him at a clearing behind the Episcopal Church. There’s a bench. I’d wait there.”

  Shane let out a derisive chuckle. “The irony.”

  “You don’t have to get involved in this,” she defended. She’d managed all these years without benefit of help from Shane and she’d do it again if need be. She considered herself lucky that she’s stumbled upon this livelihood just before her mama had passed. Her mama had taken the one and only fancy gown Dorie had sewn to Virginia City to place in her friend’s dress shop, hoping to earn some extra cash. Mrs. Miniver had seen the gown and purchased it on the spot, expressing her admiration for such style and quality workmanship. Dorie’s mother had given full credit for the sale to Dorie and from then on she’d taken orders for all the ladies Mrs. Miniver employed. Dorie figured her mama knew her days weren’t long for this earth, otherwise she’d never had agreed to such an arrangement. “This isn’t your problem.”

  “Right. Tell me, if all doesn’t go well, then what happens?”

  “Well, it only happened one time. One of the gowns didn’t fit the, uh, lady. She’d put on weight. I had to make alterations.”

  “How’d you do that?”

  “I had to go into the brothel.”

  Shane slapped his hand on his knee then fell back against the chair. “Damn it, Dorie!”

  “It only happened once and they snuck me in through the back door, early in the morning. It wasn’t too bad.”

  Shane shook his head and eyed the bottle in her hand. If he wanted another drink he would have to wrestle her for it. She couldn’t have him showing up to meet the Parkers tipsy.

  “This time, they don’t know you’re here?”

  “I didn’t know for sure I’d be coming and then, well, I didn’t get a letter off in time. But, Shane, I don’t want to worry about that now. I’ll figure something out.”

  Shane rose then and approached her, those green eyes locking onto hers. He smiled, snatched the bottle from her hands and, before she could protest, he took a long drink. “Last one.”

  He set down the bottle and came up behind her. His warm whiskey breath caressed her hair as he fastened her last three buttons on her gown rather briskly. “You will not go to that whorehouse alone, got that? We’ll figure out something later.”

  He spun her around to look her dead in the eyes. “I need to sober up. You go down and have breakfast. I’ll be ready when you get back.”

  “Shane, you need a meal, too.”

  “I’m not hungry, Dorie. Now go on.”

  Dorie stared into Shane’s eyes, debating.

  “When you come back, I’ll be the perfect pretend husband,” he reassured her.

  “It’s only for two days, Shane. You know how important this is to me…and to Jeremiah.”

  Shane nodded and, as she approached the door, ready to leave, he came up behind her. He spoke quietly, but firmly. “Stay out of trouble, Dorie.”

  Dorie promised, but she figured she was already in big enough trouble. She wanted Shane as her real-life husband.

  No other man would do.

  But he wasn’t free to want her back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shane stood at the depot alongside Dorie and Jeremiah, waiting for the stagecoach to arrive. There wasn’t enough seating in the crowded station as people milled about and chattered loudly. Virginia City was as remote as a town could be, set high in the hills of Nevada; but that didn’t curtail the population growth as prospectors and business people alike sought wealth and prosperity in the Comstock.

  Shane glanced at Dorie standing tall and proud, holding on to Jeremiah as if her life depended on it. Even through his anger and stunned surprise last night, he couldn’t help but feel admiration for her now, a young girl who had done everything in her power to keep food on the table and raise her brother right. She looked elegant in that soft pink dress, a reticule in her hand, wearing a hat of black velvet decorated with pink flowers and one delicate feather. He’d never seen her wear such a hat, and he wondered if she’d fashioned that, too, or had she dipped into her savings to purchase it for the occasion. Shane had almost claimed her innocence last night, too eager and lusty to really hear what Dorie had tried to tell him. He’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and had immediately felt the need for retribution. But he wondered if it had been more than that. Had he simply wanted to find a way—any way—to claim her as his and ease the desire that had grown too powerful to control? Had he wanted so badly to think he could have her that he’d deliberately mistook her meaning?

  Shane had known Dorie for a long time. She’d always been inexperienced and innocent. He should have controlled his anger and his lust until he fully understood the situation.

  That she was eager to comply, to give him her body and her heart, made it all the more difficult to turn her away. She’d been generous and giving, responding to him with more willingness and desire than any other female he had known. Once he’d discovered the truth, he’d cursed himself to high heaven. He’d taken solace in a bottle of whiskey, tempted to ease his lust in the brothel down the street, but in the end he’d returned to his hotel room and to Dorie.

  As the stagecoach approached Shane took his place beside her, winding his arm around her waist, the three of them creating the illusion of the perfect loving family. Shane glanced her way, noting her beauty, her stately elegance as she stood ramrod straight, her expression unable to mask her unease. “You look beautiful,” he said, hoping to ease her tension. “And we’ll do fine. All of us.”

  “You think so?” she asked with trepidation, her eyes searching his for truth.

  “I really do. We look like a happy family.”

  Dorie’s gaze lingered a little too long and he began wishing for things that would never happen.

  “We’ll be fine, Dorie,” Jeremiah reassured her.

  Dorie released a breath and nodded, looking from him to Jeremiah and back. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I hope you’re right.”

  The minute the passenger
s began to step down from the stagecoach there was no mistaking the Parkers. Two sweet-faced elderly people descended with anxious looks in their eyes. Once they spotted Jeremiah, their faces brightened with joy.

  As they approached, Shane noted the gray-haired lady with blue eyes wearing a black silk traveling dress appeared younger close up and the gentleman with the bowler hat had a spring in his step. These were not people with one foot in the grave but rather two very vital human beings.

  The woman stepped up, smiling at Jeremiah with certainty that she had the right boy. “Are you Jeremiah? Are you my grandson?”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh,” she said, clasping his hands in hers, restraining herself from hugging and kissing him. “I’m your grandmother. I’m Helene Parker.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “And I’m your grandfather,” the man announced in a booming voice. “I’m Oliver Parker.”

  Jeremiah looked up at the tall man and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  The two barely managed to tear their gazes away from him, but once they had, introductions went full circle. “I’m Shane Graham and this is my wife, Dorie. She’s Jeremiah’s sister, as you know.”

  “Yes, yes. We know. It’s so nice to meet you all,” Helene said, taking Dorie’s hand while Shane shook Oliver’s.

  Their gaze swept over to Jeremiah again and, with tears in her eyes, Helene said, “He looks so much like Steven.”

  “I don’t likely remember my father,” Jeremiah admitted.

  “We know, dear,” Helene said with regret. “I’m so glad we found you, Jeremiah. We have so much to discuss.”

  Jeremiah glanced at Dorie.

  Dorie barely smiled.

  “Well,” Shane said, “Let’s get you settled into the hotel. Jeremiah, grab your grandparents’ valises. I’ll get the trunk.”

  “There’s more than one, Shane,” Oliver said with a big grin. “My wife doesn’t travel lightly.”

  Oliver lifted one trunk while Shane took the other, and they loaded everything up in the back of the buckboard. Shane helped Dorie up in the front, while Oliver helped his wife into the backseat. Jeremiah took a place between them. Once all were settled, he urged the horses toward the center of town.

  “The hotel is quite nice, from what I hear,” Helene said as they drove on.

  “Yes, it’s lovely,” Dorie said. “Isn’t it, sweetheart?”

  Shane took his cue. “Can’t complain. Though our room is bigger on the ranch.”

  Dorie smiled. “Yes, that’s true. We’re fortunate to have a very big ranch. I’m so proud of Shane for all he’s accomplished.”

  Shane cleared his throat.

  “How many head of cattle do you have?” Oliver asked.

  “Uh, well, at last count around…three, uh, thousand.” More like three hundred, but Shane couldn’t divulge the truth to him.

  “Impressive,” Oliver said. “And Jeremiah, do you work alongside of Shane? Do you know something about raising cattle?”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Yes, um, I do, sir. Some. Mostly I help muck out the stable stalls and feed and groom the horses.”

  “Shane’s going to teach Jeremiah all about raising cattle, soon as Jeremiah’s schooling is finished,” Dorie added quickly.

  “Jeremiah is fast to learn,” Shane said with honesty. “Whatever I teach him, sticks. He’s a bright boy.”

  “Oh, do you enjoy going to school, Jeremiah?” Helene asked.

  Jeremiah hesitated with his answer. Dorie nibbled on her lip. Shane quickly responded with a chuckle, “What thirteen-year-old likes school? But the boy holds his own. Does his work and gets good grades.”

  Dorie’s stricken face relaxed some. “We’re very proud of him.”

  “I like to read,” Jeremiah said. “Don’t always have time with all the chores.”

  “Your father loved to read, too. He was always picking up a book or periodical to look at. Sometimes, he’d read dime novels, but mostly he liked to read books. I brought along some of his favorites for you. I hope you’ll enjoy them.”

  “You did?” Jeremiah seemed genuinely pleased.

  “Yes, and we brought you a few he never had the chance to read. Oliver, open the valise in back if you can. I want to show Jeremiah what we brought.”

  “All right, woman. You can’t wait to spoil this young man, can you?”

  “I’m not spoiling him. Just making up for lost time, dear.”

  Oliver struggled with the valise, coming up with two books. He handed them to Helene and she, in turn, took great pleasure in offering Jeremiah the books. “This one is Moby Dick by Herman Melville and this one is a first edition. I do so hope you enjoy it.”

  Jeremiah read the title aloud. “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne.”

  Shane turned around in time to see Jeremiah smile with gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll read them as soon as I can.”

  “They are yours to keep, Jeremiah.”

  Jeremiah swallowed and Shane turned around to find Dorie’s face flaming. He shook his head at her in silent warning. The Parkers had given Jeremiah a gift, nothing more. They weren’t trying to buy his love, but by all estimations Dorie didn’t seem to understand that fact.

  Shane feared what she might say, but she surprised him. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he’ll think of you when he’s reading them.”

  “Oh, I hope so, dear.” Helene couldn’t take her eyes off her newfound grandson.

  “Well, we’re here.” Shane stopped the buckboard in front of the hotel, helped Dorie down and began unloading. Once done, he drove to the livery, leaving Dorie and Jeremiah alone with the Parkers.

  The deception had begun. And Shane couldn’t help feeling guilty about duping such obviously nice people.

  Two hours later, after the Parkers had settled into their hotel room, they all met in the hotel dining room for the noon meal. Dorie noted Helene looking refreshed with obvious joy on her face as the woman could not stop staring at Jeremiah. Once they’d been seated at a table, Helene had made sure to sit directly across from him, taking in every movement, every expression that Jeremiah made.

  Dorie noted how much the Parkers seemed to be accustomed to the finery surrounding them, while Dorie sat in the dining room truly awestruck by the ornate draperies, bone china settings, the silver vases on each table embossed with one beautifully sculpted rose. Dorie glanced down at the silverware, summoning her teachings from Mrs. Whitaker. While her mentor had faith in Dorie’s ability to learn, she’d also said, when in doubt, wait until someone else picks up a utensil from the table and repeat what they’d done.

  Dorie watched Helene Parker with steely eyes, noting how she sat with such grace at the table. She’d already changed from her black silk traveling suit to a more colorful taffeta print. Oliver Parker looked dapper as well, wearing a three-piece suit with gray pinstripe trousers.

  “Aren’t you hungry, dear?” Helene asked, smiling at Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah glanced down at the layering of utensils beside his plate. “Yes, it’s just that, I’m not sure—”

  “If we should say grace,” Dorie finished for him. He’d obviously been confused as to which fork to pick up to begin his meal. Dorie couldn’t blame him, wondering if he shouldn’t have been included more in Mrs. Whitaker’s teachings.

  “I don’t mind if I do,” Oliver said with his booming voice. His soft brown eyes belied a voice that would make an army general proud. “If you please.”

  Shane nodded. “Please do.”

  Dorie smiled, noting Shane’s obvious relief.

  Shane took hold of Dorie’s hand, Dorie took hold of Jeremiah’s and Helene reached over to grasp his other hand while Oliver held hers. They made a complete circle and bent their heads. Oliver began in a quiet revered voice, “Dear Lord, we thank you for this bountiful meal before us. We thank you for all the blessings bestowed upon our family. We keep our son Steven in our prayers e
very day and thank you from the depths of our hearts to have found our grandson Jeremiah after all these years. We thank you for his wonderful sister, Dorie, as well, and for Mr. Shane Graham, who has protected and loved them both. Lord, our hearts are heavy with gratitude. We thank you for all these blessings. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they chorused softly.

  “Now we eat!” Oliver’s voice once again boomed.

  Dorie glanced at Jeremiah, who had obviously been just as affected by Oliver’s prayer. She breathed in deeply, praying for guidance. She’d noted the proprietary look in Helene’s eyes while watching her brother, and she’d been annoyed that the woman couldn’t wait to gift Jeremiah with books even before they’d exited the wagon earlier. But those feelings waned some, after hearing Oliver’s heartfelt prayer. Dorie recognized the fact that Jeremiah was the only grandchild they would ever have. She realized their obvious love. But she couldn’t and wouldn’t give up her brother. She’d rather die than lose Jeremiah.

  Shane laid his hand on her thigh from under the table and, when she gazed into his eyes, he smiled and winked, reminding her to stay the course. She must have appeared stricken after Oliver’s endearing speech provided by way of a prayer.

  “Has Dorie told you folks how it is that we met?” Shane asked.

  Dorie sat in stunned surprise as she regarded her pretend husband.

  “No,” Helene responded immediately. “Do tell. We’re eager to learn as much as we can about you all. So, Dorie, dear, how did you meet this fine man?”

  Dorie searched Shane’s eyes, realizing he’d done this for her benefit. He’d given her a way out of her dire musings. “It…it was love at first sight.”

  “Yes, it was,” Shane said, covering his hand over hers. “Tell them, sweetheart.”

  And Dorie plowed into her storybook tale of how Shane had fallen deeply in love with her, hopelessly embellishing the story and wishing by all accounts that even a small morsel of what she relayed would have been true.

 

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