by Merry Farmer
“You got an idea?”
Gunn paused before saying, “Bring him to me.”
Nothing at all about Theophilus Gunn would suggest that the man had a malicious bone in his body, but those four, simple words left Mason quaking in his boots. Lord help the man who ever crossed swords with Gunn.
“How? When?” Mason’s blood pumped faster.
“I assume you want to take care of this as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, sir, I do. I’m sure Libby does too.”
Gunn nodded. “I’ll be in my office this afternoon. It’s discreet, but central to town. Mr. Sterling is already staying at the hotel, all you need to do is to discover a way to bring him to my door.”
“I’m sure I can manage it.”
“I should also mention that my office has certain…useful features that would allow a few other witnesses to be on hand to hear the confession.” Gunn smiled that innocent, deadly smile of his.
Mason chuckled and thumped Gunn on the arm. “Whoever thought Haskell had such a dangerous and cunning man in their midst.”
Gunn’s only response was to raise one eyebrow.
Mason could hardly keep his thoughts together as he walked Gunn through the rest of the business that had brought him to Paradise Ranch. Once he turned Gunn over to Franklin to negotiate prices and delivery of beef for the hotel, Mason hurried off to find Luke to ask for the afternoon off.
“You want the afternoon off to help get rid of the villain who’s after my sister?” Luke asked with a wicked grin. “Hell, Mason, you can have the whole day off and the next three days if you need them. Just make sure my sister is safe.”
It was all the endorsement Mason needed. He dropped everything he was doing, saddled up one of the ranch’s horses, and set off for town at a gallop.
His first order of business once he made it into town was to figure out where Hector was.
“You could start at the hotel,” Travis advised him as he took the reins of the ranch horse from Mason at the livery. “It’s where he’s staying, after all.”
“I’ll check.” Mason nodded. “Something tells me he’s probably out and about, though. He seems to think he’ll get a job as Rex Bonneville’s foreman.”
Travis frowned. “If he’s out at Bonneville’s, it’ll be harder to bring him in.”
“Then let’s hope he’s not there. Bonnie says she was going to have a word with Rex about not hiring him.”
Travis snorted. “Bonnie Horner has more balls than any man in this town the way she handles Rex.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Mason drawled. He gave the ranch horse a final pat before turning to head out into the street.
“You’ll let me know if you need help?” Travis called after him.
For a flash, all Libby’s talk of the women who had come to her rescue the day before came to him. Maybe it was reassuring to have allies after all. “I will,” Mason called back to his brother.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunkered into his coat to fight off the chill. Christmas was in less than five weeks. Thanksgiving was right around the corner. He hadn’t given so much as a thought to either of them. There was no point in celebrating until Libby was out of all danger.
The wind that hit him as he turned to walk up Main Street threatened to freeze his face, but it also clicked a few more ideas into place in his head. If Hector wasn’t out at Bonneville’s ranch, if he’d stayed in town, he would seek shelter someplace warm and cozy. That left only a few options—the hotel, Bonnie’s, or the saloon. Since he was on the same side of the street as Bonnie’s, he checked there first.
The front part of Bonnie’s place was every bit as cozy as a man would want on a nippy day. The girls had organized some sort of card game in the front parlor where clothes seemed optional. Two out-of-towners laughed as they played along, one of them in his long johns and one in much less. Neither were Hector.
“I know you’re not here for business,” Bonnie said, coming through a door that led to the back of her house.
Mason’s answering smile was all he needed to give for the woman to understand his mission, but he asked, “Is Hector here by any chance?” anyhow.
“Nope.” Bonnie leaned against the stair railing with a proud grin. “The girls are all on notice to refuse him if he does walk through those doors.”
“Good girls.”
“He hasn’t tried yet, though,” Bonnie went on. “As far as I’ve been told, he’s been spending all his time playing cards over at the saloon.”
The thrill of the hunt rose up in Mason. “That’s just what I need to hear.”
He turned to go, but Bonnie stopped him with, “What’s the plan?”
Mason paused, then turned back to her. “Do you really want to help?”
“Of course I do,” Bonnie laughed. She walked a few steps closer to Mason. “That wife of yours is the sweetest, hurtingest woman I’ve met in a long time. She deserves an army beside her, fighting the battles she’s had to fight.”
A few more things made sense to Mason. “She spoke very highly of you yesterday.”
“Well, I’m speaking very highly of her today. And if you’re headed to the saloon to give that man what he deserves, I’m sending reinforcements. Pearl!”
She hollered the name over her shoulder. A few seconds later, bright, bubbly Pearl Pettigrew bounced down the stairs. She had a way of bouncing—especially up top—that had Mason turning away. He was married now, after all.
“Yes’m?” Pearl asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Pearl, grab your shawl.” Bonnie grinned and shook her head at Mason’s reaction to the girl. “You’re going with Mason to The Silver Dollar.”
“I am?” Pearl blinked. “I thought he was happily married now.”
“You’re going to keep an eye on that Hector Sterling bastard.”
Pearl’s girlish innocence hardened to almost Amazonian resolve. “I see. Give me one second.”
As Mason waited for Pearl to fetch her shawl, it dawned on him that his efforts to bring Hector to justice were quickly becoming a whole-town cause. First Trey and Bonnie, then Gunn, now Pearl. Who else would end up joining them before all was said and done?
The answer came as he and Pearl stepped out into the frigid afternoon and started across the street to the saloon.
“Morning, Mason,” Solomon Templesmith greeted him as he too crossed toward the saloon. “Pearl.”
“Hello, Mr. Templesmith.” Pearl batted her eyes at the handsome, black banker.
“Heading for a drink to take the chill off?” Solomon asked Mason.
“Not quite.”
“Oh?”
There wasn’t time to explain more before Mason, Pearl, and Solomon stepped through The Silver Dollar Saloon’s heavy, winter door and into the warmth. The saloon wasn’t that crowded, considering it was only early afternoon. Bonnie’s girl, Rosa, sat at the bar, listening to the saloon’s manager, Sam Standish, tell some kind of tale. Another table was occupied by several of Bonneville’s ranch hands, who must have had the day off. A third table hosted a combination of Haskell men and out-of-towners playing poker. Hector played with them.
A predatory grin crossed Mason’s face. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get Hector out of the saloon and over to Gunn’s office.
“Why yes, I’d love for you to treat me to a pick-me-up, Mr. Templesmith.” Pearl grabbed hold of Solomon’s arm and steered him toward the bar.
“Actually, I’m only here to discuss finances with Sam,” Solomon said as the two of them veered off toward the bar.
Mason frowned at Pearl’s defection, but his confusion only lasted a moment. Pearl tugged Solomon’s arm until he bent enough for her to whisper in his ear. By the time they made it to the bar and took seats on barstools next to Rosa, Solomon’s expression had hardened to alert. He nodded to Mason, then subtly glanced to the table where Hector played poker. Looked like Mason had another soldier in his army, and a valuab
le one too, if what Gunn said about needing respectable witnesses for any court case was right. As one of the richest business owners in town, Solomon Templesmith fit the bill.
Mason thrust a hand into his pocket to see how much money he’d brought with him. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t need more than a few dollars to do what he needed to do.
“Gentlemen, do you have room for one more?” he asked as he approached the poker game.
Hector glanced up at him and scowled. “The game is already in progress.”
“There’s always room for one more, if you’ve got money,” one of the other men said. He scooted to the side, then leaned back and reached for an empty chair from the table beside them. “Sit.”
With a victorious grin for Hector, Mason planted himself in the chair and pulled it up to the table. Hector’s color had gone splotchy, but he’d schooled his features to neutrality.
“Let’s finish this hand before dealing anyone else in,” he said.
Mason took out his money and placed it on the table as the men finished the round. Across the table from him, Hector had amassed a tidy pile of coins and bills, but he hadn’t run away with the game yet. As play continued, Mason figured each of the four other men sitting at the table were equally matched. The stakes didn’t seem to be high. It was the kind of game men played on a brisk afternoon to pass the time and stay warm.
“It’s straight-up five card stud,” the dealer—a grizzled older man who was missing one front tooth explained as he dealt Mason into the next hand. “Nothing fancy, nothing wild.”
Mason anted up, received his cards, and gave them a passing glance. Now that he was sitting there at the table with Hector mere feet away from him, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He wasn’t great at cards to begin with, but concentrating on playing the odds and making a good hand while mulling over how to get a criminal to confess to his crimes wasn’t the easiest thing he’d done all day.
As he chose three cards from his hand to lay on the table and received three more from the dealer, he dove in to his real mission. “I’m surprised you’re still in town, Hector.”
Hector sniffed a laugh. “I’m surprised you’re crowing so much after marrying the woman carrying my child.”
The other three men at the table stiffened, sending anxious looks between the two of them. Mason gritted his teeth. He should have figured Hector would come out swinging and that he didn’t care who heard his accusations against Libby. All he had to do was get the man over to Gunn’s office so Gunn could work his magic.
“I don’t suppose even Rex Bonneville is cold enough to hire a rapist as foreman of his ranch,” Mason said casually as he sorted his cards.
Hector snorted. “Libby was as willing as any whore. If you’d been there to see the way she cooed and wriggled as I gave it to her, you’d know.”
“I’m out,” one of the other players said. He thumped his cards down so fast that two dropped to the floor—two kings—and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair before fleeing.
The dealer cleared his throat, keeping his eyes down.
The other man put his cards down and reached under the table for what Mason figured was some sort of concealed weapon. “I fold.”
Mason did his best to remain calm. He could not cross the line. He couldn’t get himself arrested. Even if he wanted to throw over the table and break every bone in Hector’s body right then.
“That’s not the way Libby tells it,” he went on.
“She’s a liar and a whore. She promised to marry me, and here she is, married to you, my baby inside her.” Hector didn’t bother to look at Mason as he hurled his accusation. He picked up some of his coins and tossed them in the pot. “Two dollars.”
The dealer sent an anxious glance to Mason, raising his eyebrows in question.
Mason added two bills to the pile—almost half the money he’d brought with him, even though the best he had was two tens. “I call. I call you a liar and a criminal.”
Hector chuckled. “Dipping your wick in a willing well is no crime.”
“She wasn’t willing.”
The dealer cleared his throat, pursed his lips, tugged at his collar. At last, he tossed two coins into the pot with a shaking hand and muttered, “I’ll call,” as if it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“All women are willing once they’re convinced,” Hector said. He spread his cards across the table with a self-satisfied smirk that turned Mason’s stomach. “I’m very persuasive. Three jacks.”
Mason slammed his cards on the table, glaring at Hector, wishing he had a pistol, loaded and ready.
The dealer made a strangled sound and laid out his cards. “Flush.” Darting his eyes between Mason and Hector, he raked in his winnings and the discarded cards.
“I think you and I need to have a little talk,” Mason seethed, staring down Hector like he was a dog. He pushed back his chair with an angry scrape and stood. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
Hector leaned back in his chair and laughed. “You must be a fool to think I’d go anywhere with you.”
Icy dread crept down Mason’s spine. Dammit, but the bastard was right. He would be a fool to go anywhere out of the public eye with a man who’d just accused him of assaulting his wife.
Mason shifted restlessly, balling his hands into fists. It would be so much easier if he could just leap across the table and throttle the man to death. He never had been any good at playing cards, and now he’d gone and tipped his hand well before his trap was set. That as much as anything else raised his fury to the point where he could hardly think.
“If you think you’ll get away with this—”
“What’s all the fuss about over here?” Pearl and Rosa sashayed up to the table. With a smile as sweet and wide as a schoolgirl being handed a chocolate, Pearl plopped herself into Hector’s lap. “I just hate to see men frowning. You should be smiling. It’s cold outside, but we’re all warm and cozy here, aren’t we?” She slipped a hand under the collar of Hector’s jacket and teased the other through his hair.
Mason’s gut churned…until Hector’s attention snapped clean away from him and landed on Pearl’s bosom. Rosa snuggled onto the lap of the man who had reached for a weapon. She kissed him square on the mouth…and his hand dropped, empty, to his side.
Mason twitched. The two girls had just stopped a dangerous fight from breaking out—a fight which could have landed Mason in more trouble than he needed if he was going to deliver Hector to Gunn. As grateful as he was, that didn’t fix the situation.
“I don’t care if you want to talk to me or not,” he said, wishing he’d thought this through more. “There are things I want to say.”
“So say them here.” Hector shrugged, reaching a hand to fondle Pearl’s breast.
“A neutral spot,” Mason said instead. “You’re staying at the hotel, aren’t you?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Hector repeated. He tugged the front of Pearl’s bodice down enough to lay a kiss a little too close to her nipple. Pearl giggled, but Mason saw fury behind her eyes. “I might go somewhere with this delectable treasure, though.”
Panic reached through Mason’s chest. This wasn’t going at all how it should be. He needed Hector to confess, not to force himself on another woman.
“Deal the next hand,” the remaining poker player growled, his hands around Rosa’s waist.
The dealer glanced warily up at Mason. “You in?”
He’d already lost two dollars. He was afraid he’d lost his chance to corner Hector into a confession too. All he needed to do was get the man over to the hotel, to Gunn’s office, but that seemed like an impossible task at the moment.
“What seems to be the trouble here, Mason?” Solomon sidled over and thumped a hand on Mason’s shoulder. He too wore a jovial smile, but had fire in his eyes.
“This dumb cow poke can’t decide if he wants to play poker or not,” Hector said. “Frankly, I love to poke her.” He chuckled into Pearl’s c
leavage.
Mason grunted in disgust and made a move toward the man.
Solomon held him back. “Looks like there’s not much point to continuing in this game.”
If Pearl had explained even half of what Mason was doing to the clever banker, there was no doubt his words meant more than they seemed. Mason clenched his jaw and turned his head to check.
Solomon nodded once. “Come on over to the bank with me. I’ve got a…a new savings plan I want to show you.”
It flayed Mason alive to leave Hector untouched at the poker table. He’d accomplished nothing but losing money in his attempt to bring Hector to justice, but Solomon was right, this game was over.
“Yeah,” he grumbled and shrugged out of Solomon’s grip.
He stormed for the door, slapping it open and marching into the street. Solomon followed close behind.
“Pearl didn’t tell me the whole plan,” Solomon said once they were out in the cold, mostly empty street. A few shoppers and tradesmen dashed along in an effort to get out of the wind, but none looked to be in a mood to eavesdrop on a private conversation.
“That’s because there was no plan,” Mason admitted with a growl. He turned to face Solomon fully. “Gunn thinks he can get Hector to confess to…to his crimes, but we have to get him over to the hotel, to Gunn’s office first.”
Solomon crossed is arms, either from cold or calculation. “And you thought a man like that would drop his cards and follow you into a trap.”
It stung to see his plan ripped apart so easily. “I have to do something, Solomon. That bastard hurt Libby, and I want him brought to justice, at least.”
Solomon nodded in sympathy. “And Gunn thinks he can get him to confess?”
“Yes.”
“And all you have to do is get that man over to the hotel.”
“That’s what I said.” Mason was losing patience with the whole thing. Solomon was a friend, but that didn’t mean Mason wouldn’t shove him aside if it meant he could get closer to achieving his goal.
“That Hector fellow isn’t ever going to follow you or do anything you ask him to do,” Solomon went on after a long pause. Mason winced at the truth of it. “In fact, there’s only one person I can think of in town who he would follow. If everything I overheard and everything Pearl told me is right, I think he’d follow Libby to the grave.”
