by Cat Cahill
“Dora!” Edie shoved something into the folds of the cloak she’d pulled from the peg near the kitchen door. “Why are you here so late?”
“I . . .” Her mind searched for an explanation. It was hard to think with her heart pounding so loudly and her frozen hands trembling. She couldn’t come out and accuse Edie of stealing, not with Mr. Adkins right here and not when she wasn’t certain if he was involved. “I saw you leave and was worried.”
“Oh. I’m fine. You needn’t worry,” Edie said, although the slight tremble in her voice said otherwise.
“Miss Dutton has taken a liking to the horses,” Mr. Adkins said.
It was awfully late to visit horses, particularly when doing so alone with a stablehand was strictly against hotel rules. Although there wasn’t much Dora could say about that, considering how frequently she’d broken that rule. At a loss for how to reply, Dora moved away from the door and ran her hands up and down her arms to warm herself.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Edie said. “Perhaps you’ll accompany me back to the hotel once I’ve had my visit?”
Just as Dora was about to speak, the stable door opened. A gust of wind blew in with Jake and Mr. McFarland. Dora had never been so grateful to see two people in her life.
“Miss Dutton, Mr. Adkins,” McFarland said as if he was here for polite conversation. Jake glanced at both of them but didn’t bother to issue a greeting.
“Are you in need of horses?” Mr. Adkins asked.
Edie inched closer to Dora. Her features were shadowed, but her hands were empty. She no longer had what Dora assumed to be the money she’d stolen from the safe. She must have given it to Mr. Adkins while Dora was busy trying to warm herself.
“We are not,” Jake said, his words clipped.
Mr. Adkins cast a quick glance at Edie, frowning. She shook her head. “I don’t suppose you gentlemen will excuse me, then. It’s high time I took my rest. Morning comes early for me and Robbins.” He moved in front of Edie and Dora as he spoke.
Something about the situation made the little hairs on Dora’s arms rise. There was no door, besides the one that led outside, at this end of the stables and no ladder or stairs that led upstairs. That meant the stablehands bunked elsewhere, likely at the far end. Perhaps he wanted to douse the lamps before turning in. But his tense figure, standing now between her and the other men, made her think otherwise.
“I don’t suppose you’ll turn out your pockets for us, Adkins?” Jake said.
Beside Dora, Edie drew in a gasp of breath. Dora felt the girl look at her, but she kept her own eyes fixed on the situation in front of her, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that she’d rather be closer to Jake and McFarland than trapped in this corner with no way out.
“I’m sorry?” Mr. Adkins said.
“You heard me,” Jake replied.
“Mr. McFarland, I must—” Mr. Adkins began.
“Do as the man asks.” Mr. McFarland’s Irish brogue sounded even more pronounced. He turned to Jake. “It may still be with the girl.”
“It isn’t.” Dora piped up, forcing the words out around the nerves that threatened to start her entire body trembling.
Mr. Adkins turned quickly and assessed her before returning his attention to the men. “Gentlemen, I don’t know what this is about, but might we postpone this conversation until morning? I must be up early with the horses.”
Jake laughed, but the sound was hollow and impatient. “Considering we just saw Miss Dutton steal a stack of money from the hotel office and then come directly here, no—this can’t wait until morning.”
The stables were silent save for the sounds of the horses and the echo of Jake’s words hanging in the air. And then everything happened at once. Jake took a step forward. Mr. Adkins drew a revolver. Edie shrieked when he grabbed her arm and pulled her in front of him.
“Dora!” Jake yelled, a second too late.
His voice awoke something inside her—a voice that screamed, Run! But the very moment she began to move, Mr. Adkins’ hand clamped around her wrist and dragged her in front of him too. She pulled against his grip, but all that did was make him hold on even tighter. Edie stood perfectly still, with Mr. Adkins’ arm wrapped around her neck. Fighting him was getting Dora nowhere except out of breath. She stopped, her heart beating so fast she thought she might be sick.
Jake’s face was anguished, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as Mr. McFarland’s hand gripped his shoulder. “What do you want?” The words sounded as if he’d ground them out between his teeth.
“To leave, that’s all. A couple of saddled horses should get us out of here nicely,” Mr. Adkins said, not loosening his grip even a little.
“Us?” Jake said at the same time Mr. McFarland added, “You aren’t taking these girls anywhere.”
Mr. Adkins laughed. “I believe you’re in no position to tell me what I can or cannot do, gentlemen. Now, two horses, please. The ladies can share one.”
The very thought of going anywhere with this man made Dora pull against his grip again. This time he responded by yanking her right up in front of him, next to Edie, and letting go of her wrist only to wrap his arm around her waist. She struggled against him, desperate to be anywhere that wasn’t so close to this awful man, but he’d pinned her arms against her sides. Across from them, Jake’s eyes seemed to blaze fire in the shadowy light.
“Now,” Mr. Adkins said.
“I want to know why, first,” Jake said, still as tense as a piece of iron.
“Why do you care so much?” Mr. Adkins asked.
Dora held her breath. Would he confess he was a detective? Another thought then occurred to her, one that could’ve knocked her sideways if she wasn’t already pinched against the awful Mr. Adkins—if Jake was a detective, where was his gun? What sort of detective went about unarmed, particularly when he knew he might be facing his quarry?
The look on Jake’s face confirmed her confusion. Instead of deflecting Mr. Adkins’ question or announcing himself as a detective, his features went as hard as rock.
He was angry.
Mr. McFarland must have seen it too, because he grabbed Jake’s other shoulder with his free hand to keep him in place.
“This hotel supports every single person who works for it. Your thievery has ensured that paying each employee at the end of this month will be difficult, if not impossible.” Jake spat the words at Mr. Adkins.
Dora wanted so badly to go to him. No matter his secrets, he truly cared for all the employees of the hotel. He’d worked hard to find the thief so they could all keep their positions here and the hotel could remain open. That alone meant everything to her.
“The company that owns this place is richer than any of us can imagine,” Mr. Adkins replied. “It’s no skin off their backs to send as much money as is needed to keep the hotel open. Anything Miss Edie here pilfered is just pennies to them.”
“That’s my family,” Jake said, so low Dora thought she might not have heard him correctly.
Mr. Adkins said nothing at first. And then he laughed, short but clearly disbelieving.
“It’s not a joke,” Jake said harshly. “My name is Jacob Gilbert, and that, Mr. Adkins, is my family you’ve stolen from.” He shrugged off Mr. McFarland’s grip as he stepped forward.
Dora blinked at him, all the memories rushing back at her, piecing themselves together in a way that finally made sense. His telegram, his well-to-do friends, his assumption that many opportunities were available for the poor. He was wealthy. More than that, he owned the hotel where Dora worked. The world seemed to go dizzy, and she gripped Mr. Adkins’ arm as she shut her eyes.
If she survived this night, telling him her own secret was the last thing she could do now.
Chapter Thirty
The blood rushed in Jacob’s ears. McFarland’s hands had gone slack on his shoulders, but Jacob’s attention was on Dora. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. He’d imagined telling her when they were alone, a
nd asking her forgiveness for not being honest with her from the beginning. But now . . . in the dimness of the stables, he could barely see her eyes, but her body seemed to go slack. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, and whisper how sorry he was into her hair.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Adkins drawled. If he was surprised, he’d gotten over it quickly. He jerked his head toward the stalls that lined the stables to Jacob’s left. “Now how about you saddle me up two horses, Mr. Gilbert? Hurry now, before McFarland here confesses to being the king of England.” The man chuckled at his own joke.
Jacob’s hands tightened into fists again. He wanted, more than anything, to land one of them squarely into Adkins’ jaw. But he couldn’t, not while Adkins had the girls held at gunpoint. He couldn’t take the chance.
“Go,” McFarland whispered.
Jacob turned and stared at him. The man nodded. For the life of him, Jacob couldn’t figure out what the man had planned—until Jacob grabbed the lamp hanging from the nail nearby and taken a few steps toward the rear of the stables. There, hunched beside an open, empty stall door, was Robbins. The older, round man held a shovel.
Jacob locked eyes with him but said nothing. He stopped a couple of stalls down and fumbled with hanging the lamp, his eyes on Adkins, the girls, and McFarland.
McFarland stepped farther into the stables. “Forgive me, Mr. Adkins. It’s a mite cold in here and these old bones need to get away from that door.”
Adkins turned, forcing the girls around with him as he kept his eyes on McFarland. His back was completely against the posts that held up the first horse stall. He seemed to figure out a second too late that McFarland had forced him to turn his back on Jacob. McFarland likely figured Jacob would attempt something from behind Adkins, and he was right—except it wouldn’t be Jacob.
“Get back over there.” Adkins waved his revolver toward where McFarland had been standing near the door.
“Just a moment now—let me get warmed up.”
“Now,” Adkins growled out. He twisted back to find Jacob in the darkness. Seemingly satisfied that Jacob was busy with the horses, he returned his attention to McFarland.
“All right, all right.” McFarland took one step toward the door, and that was when Frank Robbins sprang up.
Quicker than Jacob would’ve ever given him credit for, Robbins brought the back of the shovel down onto Adkins’ head. The man stumbled forward, loosening his hold on the girls enough for them both to run toward McFarland. He still held the gun, however, even as he clasped his free hand to his head. “What . . .?” He turned, and Jacob was there.
He threw himself into Adkins and sent the revolver flying to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted McFarland grabbing it from where it landed. Adkins was breathing hard but still fighting. Jacob landed one good punch to the man’s jaw. The pain from the impact radiated up his arm. He hadn’t been in a fight since his university days in New York, and even then, it was more for sport than anything else. The tingling in his arm disappeared the moment Adkins brought a knee into Jacob’s stomach.
Gasping for air, he fell to the side. It was over. He didn’t want to see Dora’s face. Her disappointment in him would be worse than being bested by this sorry excuse for a man.
“James!”
Why was someone calling for his brother? Jacob turned his head slightly to the side. McFarland was there, holding Adkins down.
“Gilbert!” he said this time.
The fog cleared. Jacob drew in a rattling breath and forced himself to his hands and knees. Maybe this wasn’t over after all. McFarland wouldn’t be able to hold the man down long.
“Jake, here.” Dora stood over him, a length of rope in her hands. She gazed at him, fierce pride in her eyes. He had to move, for her. He took the rope from her, and breathing began to come a bit easier.
Together, he and McFarland bound Adkins and propped him against one of the wooden posts. Jacob leaned against a post himself, feeling more bruised and battered than he had in years. Dora flew to his side, her hands on his face and arms until she seemed satisfied he wasn’t permanently injured. He placed a hand on either side of her face. She was here, she was whole, and despite that coward Adkins’ best efforts, she was unharmed. If he’d hurt her in any way, Jacob was certain of one thing—the man wouldn’t be alive right now.
McFarland stood by silently until Jacob remembered they had an audience that not only included McFarland, but Adkins, Miss Dutton, and Frank Robbins, who stood nearby. He slowly withdrew his hands, letting them hang uselessly at his sides.
McFarland cleared his throat. “I’d enjoy a thorough accounting of how Miss Reynolds became involved in this affair later. Her well-being is still my charge, no matter your association with the Gilbert Company.”
Jacob placed a hand on his stomach, drawing a still-painful breath. “I promise you I’ve taken no liberties with Miss Reynolds.” He was being broad with his definition of “liberties,” but McFarland didn’t need to know that.
McFarland nodded, although his face belied his true feelings on the subject, and they weren’t happy ones. “I sent for the sheriff up in Cañon City earlier tonight. I imagine he’ll arrive in the morning.”
Jacob nodded toward Miss Dutton, who stood like a mouse against the stable wall, her face wet with tears. “And what of Miss Dutton?”
“Shouldn’t we hear what she has to say before deciding her fate?” Dora said. She remained by Jacob’s side, and all he wanted to do was make everyone else disappear from the stables so he could take her into his arms. He had so much to say to her.
Dora moved away from him to stand near Miss Dutton. “Edie?” she prodded.
The girl looked up at them all, her face shining in the light from the lantern hanging nearby. She removed her glasses and wiped her face with her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said in a garbled voice. “I . . . I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, but I was given no choice.”
“What do you mean?” Dora asked. She stood with her arms crossed, but her head tilted in sympathy.
“Pay no attention to her lies,” Adkins said from his seat on the floor. He spat into the straw.
Robbins nudged him with the toe of his boot. “Let the lady speak.”
Miss Dutton pulled at her gloves. “He followed me here from Kansas. My family . . .well, we owed him money. He came to collect.”
“By forcing you to steal from the hotel,” McFarland finished for her. The disgust in his face echoed Jacob’s exact feelings.
“Is that true?” Jacob asked Adkins.
“Weren’t no other way she could’ve paid me what she owed quick enough,” he said.
Jacob caught McFarland’s eye. He shook his head, indicating he didn’t wish to press any charges against Miss Dutton. Clearly, the poor girl was sorrowful over what she’d done, and hadn’t wanted to take the money to begin with. While that determination was ultimately up to Jacob, it remained McFarland’s decision whether the girl would stay or go.
“Mr. McFarland,” Dora said softly. “If I may, I believe you should give Edie another chance here. She’s a hard worker, and without the specter of Mr. Adkins forcing her to make terrible choices, I’m certain she’ll be an asset to the dining room.”
Jacob’s heart swelled with pride. It was Miss Dutton’s fault that Dora had been in this situation, that she could’ve been hurt by Mr. Adkins. And yet, here she was, vouching to give the girl a second chance.
McFarland clasped his hands behind him. “That is quite a convincing testimony, Miss Reynolds. Miss Dutton, do you wish to remain in your position here?”
The girl wiped more tears from her face. “Oh, yes! I apologize for what has happened, and I promise to be the model waitress from now on. If you decide to let me stay, that is.” She ducked her head.
“You can stay, under two conditions,” McFarland replied. “One, you do nothing—absolutely nothing—that could besmirch the name of this hotel or put it into jeopardy. And two
, if you ever find yourself in such a predicament again, you come to me instead of simply caving to the demands of a coward like Mr. Adkins.”
Miss Dutton smiled timidly. “Yes, of course. I promise.”
“One more thing,” McFarland said. “Do not speak of this to anyone else. For the sake of my own reputation, I can’t have any of my employees thinking I’ve gone soft. Or the Gilbert family, for that matter.” He glanced at Jake.
Jacob tried not to laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“That goes for you too.” McFarland pointed at Robbins and Dora. “Robbins, help me get this sorry excuse for a man up to the hotel. Miss Dutton, will you lead the way?” They hoisted hands under Adkins’ arms and hauled him to his feet. Just before leaving the stables, McFarland glanced back at Jacob. “I expect a thorough explanation tomorrow.”
When Jacob nodded his assent, McFarland shook his head. “I’m going soft, that’s all there is to it.”
Dora covered her smile with a hand as they left. The second the door shut, Jacob turned his grin to her. He reached for her hand. She let him take it, but when she finally turned to meet his eyes, she wasn’t smiling.
Foreboding thumped through his body. “Dora?” he finally dared to ask.
She gently pulled her hand from his grip. “I can’t,” she said.
Chapter Thirty-one
Jake’s eyebrows drew together. “That wasn’t the way in which I’d intended for you to find out. I wasn’t honest with you, and I apologize for that. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was bound by promises to my family to find the thief. I know that doesn’t make lying to you right, but I hope you understand.”
Dora twisted a fold of her skirt between her fingers. The revelation had been jarring, of course, but it made telling him who she really was even harder. “I hadn’t expected you to be a Gilbert, of course, but I’d had the feeling you weren’t who you’d presented yourself to be.”
