Rogue Rapids

by Shirleen Davies

  “I’m walking that way myself. Let me escort you.”

  Sylvia thought about it a moment, seeing nothing wrong with Morgan walking beside her for the short distance. “That would be lovely.”

  They continued to talk as they passed stores and the clinic, finally stopping outside the boardinghouse. She turned toward him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Lucero. Perhaps you’d allow me to escort you to supper sometime.”

  She let out a tired breath. “Perhaps.”

  Morgan touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll bid you good night then.”

  “Good night, Mr. Miller.” She watched him walk away. That was when Sylvia noticed Caleb standing across the street, his gazed fixed on Morgan.

  Whiplash, Texas

  Dominic stared down at the telegraph in his hand, reading it through a second time. The Pinkerton Agency had tracked Sylvia to Philadelphia, where she’d signed an agreement with Pettigrew’s. He pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to understand what would possess his smart, beautiful sister to become a mail order bride.

  Looking up, he let out a disbelieving breath. Pinkerton’s hadn’t been able to find out where the company sent her. Pettigrew’s policy was to contact the potential bride, obtaining her permission to provide more information.

  “Thank God for that,” he mumbled to himself. Knowing his sister, she’d never allow the company to reveal where she’d been sent.

  As much as Dominic loved his father, he loved Sylvia more and respected her desire to create a life built on love, not on the wishes of a man blinded by the need for more land. He hated his father’s obsession for more property and increased power, especially when the cost was the happiness of his own children.

  Sliding the telegram into a pocket, Dominic stopped at his favorite saloon, played a few rounds of cards, consuming a couple glasses of whiskey. He needed to get his thoughts in order. Afterward, he’d ride home to give his father the news. Antonio wouldn’t be happy. He expected no less than the exact location of his daughter.

  Taking a seat at a table with two other men he knew, Dominic played three hands, finishing two glasses of whiskey. Instead of using the time to focus on the cards, he spent the time thinking through what his father’s reaction would be to the Pinkerton telegram. The more he considered it, the more he became convinced his father would take matters into his own hands. Which meant he’d send Cruz or Dominic to Philadelphia to obtain the information unavailable to the agency.

  Tossing down the last of his cards, he decided it was time to ride home and face his father’s displeasure. He thought of the older man’s reaction the entire ride to the ranch. It was how Dominic always dealt with his father, doing his best to keep one step ahead of him, ready for any response.

  By the time he reined to a stop in front of the large hacienda, he felt confident whatever his father said, he’d be prepared with an answer. Dismounting, he noticed a buggy he hadn’t seen as he rode up. Dominic’s brow lifted as he tried to figure out who it belonged to, but could think of no one who owned a black buggy with a red and white crest painted on the side. This was no ordinary carriage. It belonged to someone with means. Someone new to Whiplash.

  His interest piqued, Dominic walked inside, hearing his father’s voice coming from the library. An instant before joining them, he stopped at the sound of a woman’s laughter. It was throaty, not the tittering sound of stilted or forced amusement, nor the giggles of a young girl. Whoever she was, Dominic knew without doubt he’d never met her.

  Walking through the doorway, he stopped at the sight of three people. An older man stood next to a woman of about the same age. A younger woman in a green dress and some odd concoction on her head stood near his father, her back to Dominic.

  “Ah, there he is now.” Antonio walked toward him, stopping a foot away. “This is my youngest son, Dominic. Dom, I’d like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Givens and their daughter, Edith. They recently purchased a ranch several miles on the other side of Whiplash.”

  Removing his hat, Dominic greeted the couple before turning his attention to Edith. “Miss Givens. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Her face flushed a charming soft pink. He thought her pretty in an odd, unconventional way. The green eyes staring up at him were set a little farther apart than normal, her lower lip fuller than one would expect, and her nose uncommonly broad. Still, when Dominic studied her features as a whole, she did have a certain appeal. Then she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Hello, Mr. Lucero.”

  Dominic steeled his features so as not to outwardly cringe at the high-pitched squeak of her voice. This was followed by a trilling giggle, causing him to wince. With regret, he realized the woman he heard laughing earlier must have been Edith’s mother.

  “They will be staying for supper, Dom. I’d like you to give Miss Givens a tour of the ranch while the meal is being prepared.”

  His jaw tightened when he figured out what his father had planned. As with Sylvia, he had begun a mission to find him a wife. The same as his sister, Dominic wouldn’t be pushed toward a woman because of the potential benefit to the Lucero family. Nor would he lead on someone such as Edith, pretending he held an interest in her.

  “As much as I’d enjoy showing her around, I’ve business to attend to.” He turned toward their guests. “If you don’t mind, I need to speak with my father for a few minutes. I wouldn’t ask, except it is quite important.”

  “Of course, young man.” Mr. Givens took his wife’s arm, guiding her and Edith from the room, closing the door behind them.

  It didn’t surprise Dominic to see the anger on his father’s face when he shifted toward him.

  Antonio glared at his son. “How dare you be rude to our guests, especially the young woman who’d expected to spend time with you.”

  Instead of answering, Dominic pulled the telegram from his pocket, handing it over. The change in his father was immediate, his anger now directed at the company behind the telegram. Murmuring several strong oaths, Antonio paced away, slapping the paper against his thigh.

  “I cannot believe an agency such as Pinkerton isn’t able to discover Sylvia’s location.”

  “Pettigrew’s policy wouldn’t allow them to disclose where she is, Father.”

  “Damn their policy. She’s a young, vulnerable woman with a family desperate to find her.” He slammed his fist against the top of his desk, spewing a series of curses. “It could take months to get an answer, and by then, she might not be where they first sent her. There must be another way to get the information.”

  Dominic shoved aside the lump of indecision stuck in his throat. He knew the answer his father sought. When he’d first thought of it, he envisioned Cruz making the long trip to Philadelphia, using his charm to gain the answers needed.

  After meeting Miss Givens, understanding his father’s intention of pushing them together, Dominic had a swift change of heart. He could think of no better way to assist his family and extricate himself from his father’s schemes. A wry grin formed on his face. Of her two brothers, Sylvia would want him to be the one to discover where she’d fled—not Cruz, and definitely not their father.

  “I believe there is a way to get the information we need, Father. I will go to Philadelphia and obtain what we need to find her.”

  Antonio blew out a frustrated breath, his irate stare narrowing on his youngest son. “If Pinkerton can’t get the information, what makes you think that damnable mail order bride company will provide her location to you?”

  Lowering himself onto the elegant, quite masculine leather sofa, he stretched out his long legs. Clasping his hands behind his head, a wry grin curled the corners of his mouth.

  “For once, you’re going to have to trust me, Father.”

  His jaw clenched, Antonio said nothing, recognizing the look on his son’s face. Nostrils flaring, he nodded once, a curt movement of his head, giving his consent.

  Pushing himself u
p, Dominic walked to stand in front of him. “I’ll need money.”

  His father took four long strides to a safe concealed against a wall. Reaching inside, he grabbed stacks of money, handing them to Dominic.

  “I’ll be taking the stagecoach to Abilene, then the railroad to Philadelphia. I doubt it will take long to obtain what we need.”

  “When do you plan to leave?”

  Dominic lifted a satchel from its usual spot on a shelf and stuffed the money into it before closing the latch. “I’ll be on the stage tomorrow morning.”

  Splendor

  Sylvia found it hard to keep a positive disposition after six days without any news about Mack. Even May had asked if something bothered her. She’d told her friend everything was fine—but it wasn’t.

  The days passed as they had before she’d started spending time with the complicated deputy. Mr. Petermann increased her hours at the general store, a welcome change providing additional funds, which she dutifully added to her small account at the bank.

  Breakfast and supper with May, and sometimes Tabitha or Deborah, helped fill the hours, keeping her thoughts from Mack. The hardest time occurred at night, lying in bed while staring at the ceiling. She continued to think about her cruel outburst, the hurt look on his face, the way he’d walked away without looking back.

  Sylvia thought Caleb might come to her if he heard any news about his friend, but he’d been as elusive as Mack. He’d even been brusque the couple times she’d stopped by his table at the boardinghouse restaurant to say hello. Polite, yes. Friendly, not at all.

  Sylvia wondered if she’d done or said something to anger Caleb, but hadn’t spoken with him since the morning she visited the jail, asking about Mack. He’d seemed fine when she walked away.

  “What time will you finish work tomorrow?”

  Sylvia looked up from the paper on the counter, smiling when she saw May walk inside the store. “The same as today. Five o’clock. Why?”

  Her friend’s face brightened. “Lena Evans invited us to supper at the Eagle’s Nest. You, Deborah, Tabitha, and me. Please say you can join us.”

  Sylvia almost laughed. “Well, my social calendar is a little full...”

  May’s brows furrowed. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

  Setting a hand on her friend’s arm, she nodded. “Yes, I am.”

  Smart and a quick learner, May held a deep thread of naïveté, making her a target of her friends’ good-natured teasing. Sylvia hoped being so trusting didn’t hurt her in more serious ways.

  She squeezed May’s arm, then let go. “I’d love to have supper at the Eagle’s Nest tomorrow evening.”

  The chiming of the bell over the door drew her attention, her eyes widening at the sight of Caleb strolling inside. As he walked forward, his gaze seemed to lock on May, an action which surprised and delighted Sylvia.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Bacon, Miss Lucero.”

  May’s face flushed when he stopped next to her, his arm brushing hers.

  “May I get anything for you, Deputy Covington?” Sylvia asked.

  He reached into a pocket, pulling out a list hastily scribbled in bold strokes. Caleb handed it to Sylvia. “Not much there, but I thought I’d better stock up a little for when Mack gets back.”

  She stared at the list, her eyes widening. “Um…will Deputy Mackey be returning soon?”

  Caleb shrugged. “It’s been a week. Gabe expects him and Cash to ride back any day now. With luck, they’ll have a couple new deputies with them.”

  The bell rang again. Morgan Miller smiled when he spotted Sylvia. Coming forward, he removed his hat, nodding at Caleb and May. “Good afternoon, Miss Lucero.”

  A slight grin curved the corners of her mouth. His appearance at the store surprised her, while at the same time creating a sense of disappointment. She’d hoped to see Mack when the bell sounded.

  “Hello, Mr. Miller.” Sylvia noticed Caleb run his gaze over Morgan, his mouth drawing into a thin, tense line. She found herself wondering at his reaction to the rancher. “I have a few items to get for Deputy Covington before I can help you.”

  Morgan grinned. “I can wait.” He looked at Caleb and smirked.

  May watched the reactions of the three people around her and cleared her throat. “I’ll be at the boardinghouse if you want to have supper together, Sylvia.”

  Caleb wrenched his gaze away from Morgan. “I’ll walk you across the street, Miss Bacon.”

  Blinking, May looked up at the tall lawman. “Um…that would be nice.”

  He glanced at Sylvia. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for my order.” Casting a hard look at Morgan, he cupped May’s elbow, guiding her to the door.

  Sylvia hurried to gather what Caleb needed, listing the prices on a piece of paper before totaling the order. Setting everything aside, she turned her attention to Morgan.

  “What may I get you, Mr. Miller?”

  He leaned against the counter, his eyes meeting hers. “Flour, sugar, molasses, and salt.”

  She grabbed the items as Morgan spoke. “Is that everything?”

  The bell rang again, but she didn’t look to see who had entered.

  “Actually, I hoped you would consent to having supper with me tonight.”

  She stilled, not sure how to answer. “Well, I, um…” That was when her gaze moved past Morgan. Sylvia let out a soft gasp at the steely, cold look on Mack’s face.

  Chapter Eight

  Sylvia’s breath caught, chest squeezing at the first sight of Mack in almost a week. For a tense moment, she worried he might turn around and leave. Instead, he stalked forward, his gaze never wavering from hers.

  “Miss Lucero already has supper plans this evening.”

  Morgan straightened, glaring at Mack before looking at Sylvia. “Is that right, Miss Lucero?”

  Glancing between the two, her mind whirling at Mack’s resolute claim, she nodded. “Yes, it is, Mr. Miller.”

  Picking up the items she’d set aside for him, Morgan gave a brisk nod. “Perhaps another time, Miss Lucero.”

  Swallowing, she gave him a slight smile, her voice almost a whisper. “Perhaps, Mr. Miller.” Sucking in a shaky breath, Sylvia waited until Morgan left before shifting her gaze to Mack. “That wasn’t exactly accurate, Deputy Mackey. I don’t recall you asking me to have supper with you tonight.” Her lips curved upward as she finished.

  “Never said I always tell the truth, Miss Lucero.” He stepped up to the counter. “Besides, you and I need to talk.”

  The hard look on his face told Sylvia she might not like what he had to say. Still, Mack was right. They needed to discuss what happened the other night and decide if they had reasons to continue seeing each other. If not, it would be better to find out now.

  She blew out a shaky breath, lifting her chin. “You’re right. We do need to talk.”

  “I’ll ask Suzanne for a quiet table at the back of her restaurant. Is six o’clock all right?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.”

  He studied her face a moment before giving a curt nod. Without another word, Mack turned around and walked out, closing the door with a soft click.

  Sylvia didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he left. Shoulders slumping, her heart squeezed. Something about the set of his jaw and cold look in his eyes told her she wouldn’t like whatever Mack wanted to say. A slight chill washed over her. She looked down at her hands clasped together in such a tight grip, her knuckles had already turned white.

  She remembered all the times Mack had asked her to supper, all the rejections she’d given him. Even so, he’d never stopped asking, always hopeful she’d change her mind.

  During those months, Sylvia felt in control, not allowing herself to get snared by the charming deputy. She snickered at the term her friends used to describe the formidable, dark-haired lawman with a broad smile and easy laugh.

  Sylvia thought of the first few weeks she and her friends had spent in Splendor. The three sing
le lawmen—Mack, Caleb, and Dutch—had been the subject of their conversations on many occasions.

  May had made no secret of her attraction to Caleb, acknowledging the tall, gorgeous, sociable deputy would never have an interest in a woman such as herself. Quiet, shy, and rather fearful by nature, May held no hope he’d even noticed her since she and the others had arrived in Splendor.

  Deborah had expressed an interest in Dutch. Although the broad-shouldered deputy with a deep red beard and personable manner had shown his own interest at first, his attention had lessened as time passed.

  Tabitha hadn’t voiced her attraction to any of the three until the night she’d flirted with Mack at the boardinghouse restaurant. The same night Sylvia thrust a knife into the tenuous relationship she and Mack had started.

  Mack, she thought, swallowing the ball of dread building in her stomach. If only she’d kept her mouth shut and not mentioned anything about not being one of his women at Ruby’s. She groaned at the memory, feeling a flush of heat spread up her cheeks.

  Her mother would’ve been appalled if she knew her daughter spoke of such a sensitive topic as soiled doves. Ladies simply didn’t speak of such things. Mack obviously felt the same. If she could take the words back, she would.

  She shuddered, thinking of the stunned look on his face before he’d left her at the front door of the boardinghouse. A wave of resignation washed over her, already knowing what Mack wanted to say. Dampness pooled in her eyes as she succumbed to the inevitable.

  On a deep, shuddering breath, Sylvia accepted by the time she climbed under the covers tonight, her brief relationship with Adam Mackey would be over, as would her ridiculous dream of love with the taciturn, yet quite charming lawman.

  Dominic stared out the train window, looking without seeing the miles of open land racing past. His thoughts had been on Sylvia the entire trip, wondering where she’d been sent and if she’d already married. He hoped his sister hadn’t jumped into some ill-advised relationship with a man not at all worthy of her.