by Merry Farmer
Tension cracked through Mason like a whip. “I won’t put Libby in danger.”
“I don’t blame you,” Solomon said. “But she might be the only person who can lead Hector where he needs to be led.”
Mason hated every last detail of the statement. He hated it, but he acknowledged it was probably true. He wasn’t going to be able to solve Libby’s problems and keep her safe unless he involved her in the solution.
With frustration heating him to the core, Mason let out a sigh. “I need to go find my wife.”
Chapter Ten
Libby paced through the lobby of The Cattleman Hotel, wringing her hands. She could do this. She wanted to do this. She needed to do this.
She was so nervous she could barely feel her feet.
With a hand pressed to her stomach, she turned and paced to the other side of the lobby. A young man in a hotel uniform sitting behind the large front desk was the only other person in the lobby, but he wasn’t the only person watching her.
Mason had been in a terrible state when he’d come by Josephine’s house a little over an hour ago. He’d found her in the kitchen, up to her elbows in bread flour and canning supplies. Josephine was still putting up apple preserves and sauce. For the first time since arriving in Haskell, Libby had been enjoying going about domestic duties and talking freely with Josephine and Muriel. Without the fear of being turned out of Haskell society for her wrongs hanging over her head, she was able to bond with her sister and the woman who had saved her siblings from more trouble than they deserved.
As soon as Mason had arrived, all that changed.
“I should have known better than to rush into the saloon without a plan,” he grumbled as Libby and Josephine served him tea and apple tarts. “I just want this over with so badly that I leapt before I looked.”
“You’re a good man, Mason Montrose.” Josephine patted his shoulder and added another sugar cube to his tea. “I can’t tell you how much it eases my heart to know you’re taking care of Libby.”
Mason gave her a weak smile. “I don’t know how good a job I’m doing if a bast—a rat like Hector is still running free in town. It eats me up that I let that opportunity slip by. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself if—”
“Stop.” Libby reached across the sofa where she and Mason sat to take his hand. “Stop right there.”
Mason pivoted to face her, ignoring his tea for the moment.
“I’ve spent the last two months punishing myself with guilt,” Libby began again, emotion pounding through her. “I worried that all that time I’d done something unforgivable.”
“You didn’t.” Mason rushed to reassure her, his face pinched with frustration.
“I know.” She caught his other hand, holding both of his between them. It had felt so joyous to say those words, to know what they meant, that a giggle escaped from her. She couldn’t keep herself from smiling, even as tears threatened. “I know that it wasn’t my fault,” she went on.
“You…do?” The hope she felt reflected in Mason’s eyes.
Libby nodded. “All this time, I thought because…well, because of the way things happened that I was at fault. But I see now that I did everything I could possibly have done. Hector was intent on causing me harm.”
“But—”
She squeezed his hands to silence him. “I did the right thing by taking the boys and leaving Pine Arbor too. I should have gone sooner, but I didn’t know Hector would go as far as he did.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Mason freed one of his hands to brush along the side of her face. “Your soul is far too good to know what a man like that had in store.”
“Maybe.” They could argue that point later. “You did the best you could too, Mason. You are my champion, and I didn’t think I would have one of those. I didn’t think anyone at all would support me.”
“You have so much support, Libby.” Mason chuckled, stealing a sidelong glance at Josephine, who still hovered near her tea set on the table next to the sofa. “Why, practically everyone in town who knows anything at all about the circumstances of you coming here and about Hector wants to help you.”
Libby sucked in a breath, remembering what the conversation was all about. “So you say that Solomon Templesmith suggested I’m the only one who could lure Hector into Mr. Gunn’s office?”
Mason’s shoulders dropped. “Yes.” He didn’t like the idea, she could tell, but he saw the truth in it.
“And Mr. Gunn is certain he can convince Hector to confess what he did to me?”
Mason shrugged. “That’s what he says. If anyone can do it, Gunn can. He has a way of making people want to talk to him.”
Libby nodded. “I got that impression. You also said that the sheriff will be there in Mr. Gunn’s office?”
“And Solomon offered to be there too,” Mason confirmed.
“That’s a lot of people for a hotel office.”
“There’s a lot more to Theophilus Gunn’s office than meets the eye,” Josephine said. They both turned to her. “He told me all about it, once. Charlie Garrett hired Gunn to run his hotel before the hotel was built. Gunn insisted that his office have plenty of closets. Only they aren’t exactly closets, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do,” Libby answered.
Josephine chuckled. “You’ll know once you’re in there.” She returned to pouring tea. “I tell you, I would pay a pretty penny to find out what Gunn did for a living before turning his hand to running luxury hotels in the middle of Wyoming Territory. Someone said they thought he’d spent some time abroad.”
“I don’t care if he spent time on the moon,” Mason said. “If he can keep you safe and wring a confession out of Hector, then he deserves my eternal gratitude.”
Libby remembered those words, that conversation, as she paced through the hotel lobby. An hour had passed. Mason had checked in with the sheriff and Mr. Templesmith and even Bonnie. Apparently Hector was still at the saloon where Mason had left him, and Pearl was still keeping him company. Gunn had returned to the hotel, ready to play his part. He and Mason, the sheriff and Mr. Templesmith had all disappeared into Mr. Gunn’s mysterious office over twenty minutes ago. All Libby had to do now was wait for Hector to show up at—
The hotel’s front door blew open with a blast of cold air. Libby caught her breath, whirling to face Hector as he strode into the lobby. He was alone. That set Libby’s heart racing. Bonnie’s plan was to get word to Pearl to bring Hector to her place, where they would be turned away. Pearl was then supposed to suggest they transact business at the hotel and bring him right to Libby. But Hector was alone. Was Pearl in danger?
“Well, well. Good afternoon, Mrs. Montrose.” Hector removed his hat and sauntered toward her.
Libby didn’t have time to worry about Pearl. The girl may have looked sweet and vapid, but she could take care of herself. She only had time to worry about one thing—getting Hector to Mr. Gunn’s office.
“I need to talk to you.” She started toward him, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Her pulse pounded so hard it made her dizzy, but too much was riding on her part in the plan to lose her nerve now.
Hector smirked. He came to a stop, meeting her in the center of the lobby. “Now you want to talk to me?”
She couldn’t make it look too easy. If she so much as hinted at a change of heart, Hector would know something was wrong.
“I want you to leave,” she demanded in a whisper. “Just go. Now.”
Hector laughed. It was a slow, quiet, and sounded like it rumbled up from the bowels of hell itself. “Why would I want to leave such a charming town when all of its inhabitants have been so neighborly?” He touched a gloved finger to Libby’s nose.
Libby flinched. It wasn’t part of the act, but it helped her cause. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.
Hector leaned closer. “That’s not what you said the night we made our baby.” He reached out to slip a hand along her stomach.
Si
ck chills spread out from the spot he’d touched. Libby backed away from him. “That night was not what you think.”
Hector took a step after her. Libby backed further toward the corridor with Gunn’s office. Hector pursued.
“I know exactly what that night was.” He kept close enough to her to speak low, so that only she could hear.
Libby darted a glance around the lobby. The young man at the desk had disappeared—part of the plan. He’d gone to alert everyone in Gunn’s office that Hector had arrived. Hector followed the line of Libby’s gaze. He broke into a lascivious grin, reaching for her.
“You know, I just turned down a sweet invitation from a delightful woman with the most tempting bosom,” he drawled. “Said she could show me a good time. I need a good time, Libby. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a good time. I need it. I want it. But that girl wasn’t the whore I have a taste for.”
“No, Hector. I’m not a whore,” Libby managed to choke out as her throat closed in panic. Her backpedaled flight to the hallway with Gunn’s office might have been staged, but it wasn’t the least bit faked. “I’m Mason’s wife.”
“You should have been mine.” As soon as they crossed out of the lobby itself and into the corridor, Hector became more aggressive. “You should have been mine from the start.”
He grabbed Libby’s wrist hard enough to bruise. Libby gasped, searching desperately for escape. Four powerful men were ready and waiting to defend her to the death, just on the other side of a door only two yards down the hall from where she stood. If she could reach that door, she would be safe.
Hector took advantage of her slip in attention to step into her, pressing her up against the wall. He angled his hips into her so that she could feel the bulge in his trousers. More than that, he tightened his hold on her wrist, shoving her hand over his trousers between them.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Libby? Can’t you appreciate all I could do for you?”
“I don’t want you,” she repeated, turning her face away with a grimace. It was the only thing she could think to say and do.
Hector growled. “No one says that to me. No one. Don’t you know who I am? What I could do for you?” He laughed. “There are women lined up all along the Pacific Coast who would drop to their knees and do whatever I told them for a chance to be my wife.”
“Then pursue them, not me.”
She jerked to the side, surprising Hector enough to break free of him. Off-balance, she lunged toward Gunn’s office door. Hector stumbled as he came after her. It was just the stroke of luck she needed. She grasped the office door handle, turned it, and jumped inside.
Hector followed her, shutting the door behind them. His movements were back to being slow and calculated, his focus zeroed in on her, as if he knew he had her cornered. It was the same as the night he’d forced her. Libby backed toward Gunn’s desk, scanning the office. It appeared to be empty. The desk rested in the exact center of the room. The wall behind it was all wood-paneled with only a few indentations at the level where doorknobs would be. A potted plant sat on a small table next to a window, enjoying the afternoon sun. There was no window in the opposite wall. Instead, a Japanese paper screen sectioned off one corner of the room, reaching all the way to the floor.
There. Someone was behind that screen. They had to be. She could feel it. Libby didn’t know who, but the mere knowledge that she wasn’t alone with Hector gave her the courage to stand straighter.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t want you, Hector.” She faced him with her back straight and her head held high, but her eyes continued to dart around the room. Someone was behind the screen, but wasn’t Gunn supposed to be here? Wasn’t he supposed to work his magic to get Hector to confess?
And where was Mason?
“We’ve been through this before, my dear.” Hector stalked closer to her. “You say one thing, but I know you mean another.”
“I don’t,” Libby insisted. “I never did.”
A flash of inspiration hit her. She didn’t need Mr. Gunn to pry a confession out of Hector. They were in the room—four upstanding, reliable witnesses. She could coax Hector into confessing herself. She had all the power, for once.
“I said no to you that night, admit it.” She met Hector’s eyes, daring him to say otherwise.
“Only for as long as it took for me to convince you to say yes.”
A soft thump sounded from one of the panels against the back wall. Heat flooded Libby. It was just as Josephine had said. Those weren’t walls behind her. They were more screens, like the Japanese screen, but floor to ceiling. The office was bigger than it looked, and help was just a breath away.
“I never said yes,” Libby went on, confidence growing so fast it made her dizzy. “Did you hear me say the word ‘yes’ once, Hector? Did I ever say to you ‘I want you to touch me’ or ‘I want you to make love to me?’”
“You didn’t have to, love. Your body said it—”
“Did I ever say yes?” she demanded. “Tell me.”
Hector stopped his slow approach and threw his arms out. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to admit what you did to me,” Libby answered, surprising herself with her anger. “I want you to admit that you forced me.”
“And what good would that do?” Hector demanded. “A man has to force things once in a while to get what he wants. It’s called ambition.”
Libby froze, waiting. Nothing happened. It must not have been enough of a confession to build a case on. She had to try harder.
“I was someone else’s wife, Hector.” She raised a fist. “I was Teddy’s wife. How could you want another man’s wife?”
Hector laughed. “Easily. I wanted you. That’s all that mattered. I get what I want.”
“Then you’re worse than I thought,” she spat at him. “And what would you have done if Teddy hadn’t died? Would you have forced yourself on a married woman?”
“Of course not.” Hector snorted. “Even I have my limits. But you were supposed to turn to me when that weakling died.”
“I would never turn to you. Not in a million years. And Teddy was not a weakling. He was brave and strong and smart.”
Hector scoffed. “Smart? Really? How smart was he not to check his harness and ropes before I asked him to climb up and top that tree for me?”
Libby froze. Her heart stopped. The color drained from her face. She tried to reply, but her mouth hung open uselessly.
“Oh yes,” Hector went on. “Your smart, brave logger was a blind idiot. You think you owe your loyalty to his memory? The dolt didn’t even see me walk up to his harness with a knife. He didn’t bother to check a few clean cuts most of the way through his rope. Hell, he didn’t even ask why I wanted him to take a job I was supposed to do. If you ask me, a man like that deserves to die.”
Libby’s knees turned to jelly. She sat hard on the edge of Gunn’s desk, clutching her stomach, afraid she would be sick. “You killed Teddy?”
Hector sniffed swaying closer to her. “Of course I did. You refused to leave him for me. I couldn’t even approach you with the idea. I had to kill him in order to get to you. We were meant to be together, Libby. We—”
Before he could finish his confession, the Japanese screen clattered aside and a broad-shouldered man with a sheriff’s star pinned to his chest stepped forward. Seconds later, the false wall behind Gunn’s desk slid aside in two spots, revealing Mason and Mr. Gunn, Solomon Templesmith and—to Libby’s surprise—Bonnie.
“You murdered Teddy Sims?” Mason advanced on Hector.
The shock that marred Hector’s face was so acute that Libby thought he might choke. His knees gave out, but before he could fall, the sheriff grabbed his arm. Mr. Templesmith rushed forward to grab the other. The two men held him upright as Mason charged at him.
“You slime.” No one moved fast enough to stop Mason from crashing a fist across Hector’s face. “You murdering, raping piece
of dirt.”
He swung again, but Mr. Gunn and Bonnie jumped forward fast enough to prevent the second blow from falling.
“Easy now, Mason, easy.” Mr. Gunn soothed him with unflappable calm.
“It’s all right,” Bonnie added. “We’ve got him. Trey’s got him.”
“And he confessed to a damn sight more than assaulting your wife,” Trey said.
“What?” Hector bellowed. “I didn’t confess to anything.”
“You said you killed Teddy to get to me,” Libby said, pushing herself to stand and step closer to him.
“I said nothing of the sort,” Hector argued.
Every bit of guilt and fear Libby had lived with for the past few weeks solidified into fury. “You just said that you tampered with Teddy’s equipment so that he would fall.”
“That…I didn’t…It was not a confession,” Hector insisted, but his eyes were wide and wild.
“It sounded like a confession to me,” Solomon said, giving Hector’s arm an extra twist.
Hector shouted. “Are you going to let a darkie manhandle me like that?”
“Yes,” Trey answered, yanking his other arm and making Hector cry out again. “Mr. Templesmith is one of the most respected gentlemen in town. Judge Pilfrey thinks very highly of him.”
“And as I recall, he does not think very highly of men who misuse women,” Gunn added.
“It’s because his sister was savaged by that prospector back in ’59,” Bonnie added.
Libby had no idea who Judge Pilfrey was or what had happened to his sister, but the simple combination of statements had Hector sagging as his legs gave out under him. “You can’t prove anything.” He was hoarse, and his eyes were as wide as saucers. “It’s your word against mine.”
“I’ll telegraph up to Oregon,” Gunn said without pause, heading for his office door. “It shouldn’t take too long to get in touch with someone at the Pine Arbor logging camp who can check equipment. Who knows, someone else might have suspicions as well.”
