Sweet Surrender (Mercers of Montana Book 1) (7 page)

The sheriff's toast caught the crowd's attention and they cheered. A vision of a different future unfolded in Jackson's mind's eye. Perhaps his mother was right and this marriage was exactly what he needed.

He inhaled deeply, enjoying her intoxicating fragrance of jasmine. The warmth of her smile spread through his whole body. Now that he knew what it felt like to be here with her in front of everyone, he was sure he didn't want to dive back into the shadows.

Let the Knifemen do their own work. He would let it go and move on with his life. Puffing his chest in contentment, he surveyed the crowd when an unhappy Silas slipped in through the French doors.

J
ackson found
Silas at the foot of the garden, blending in with the shadows of the stone wall. The angular man pulled off his hat and had the decency to look apologetic.

He kept his voice low. "I'm sorry to pull you from your party, but there's been another incident."

Jackson narrowed his eyes. "At the mining camp?"

"No, the small claim just north of the big mine. Abbot …" Silas swallowed "… Abbot's been killed."

Jackson drew in a sharp breath. "An accident?"

Silas crumpled the brim of his hat. "No. He was left in the front shaft. Set out as a clear message. If his partner doesn't sell, he'd be next."

Swearing, Jackson tugged at the tight collar of his suit. "They have any idea who they're supposed to sign the claim over to?"

"No…" Silas bit his lip "…just some empty company name."

Jackson groaned. "I don't suppose anyone saw anything?"

"It's a lonely spot up there and just the two working the claim. I'm surprised we found Abbot so quickly."

Jackson ran a hand through his hair, forgetting his mother had forced him to tie it back for the party. He pulled it loose with an impatient jerk. "Abbot's claim backs up to the big mine?"

Silas thought a moment then nodded. "You think the big mine's trying to expand?"

"It makes the most sense. The big mine needs to expand far enough to tempt one of the best industrial outfits. Then the owner can sell it all for the prettiest penny and leave Virginia City before seeing any fallout."

Silas cleared his throat. "Where do you want to start?"

Jackson closed his eyes, his face as black as night. "I'll go have a conversation with that foreman."

Olivia's silhouette passed across the French doors, and he froze. Her smile was the brightest flame the people of Virginia City had seen in a long while, and they fluttered happily around her.

Jackson's mind raced, counting out the minimum of days he would need to force answers out of people. Wild hope drove him through an unrealistic timeline, but how ridiculous was it? The job was harder than squeezing blood from a stone, and Jackson could see no clear way around it. Olivia, a wedding, any chance of a happy ending was on the other side, and Jackson had no choice.

"I'm sorry, Jackson, but it's better to let her go." Silas seemed to have read his thoughts. "These people, whoever they are, don't think twice about what they do. She's just another way for them to get to you…" his voice cracked "…for them to stop you."

Jackson kicked at a toadstool in the grass. Olivia would be in danger. She probably already was because they had walked together through town. All it took was a few minutes with him and her life was in jeopardy.

"I'll meet you at the cabin tonight," Jackson called after the retreating form.

The older man tipped his hat and disappeared through the back gate.

J
ackson took
a deep breath and pushed out an exhausted sigh. More than anything he wanted to go back inside and feel the touch of Olivia's hand on his arm, but he was like a stone too heavy to budge.

It was best if he followed Silas out the back gate and never came back. No one would be surprised, and no one would blame Olivia. She would be pitied and comforted, and Jackson was sure she would leave with her head held high.

After all, the poor girl was only marrying him to settle her father's debts. She was duty bound and had no choice. It was exactly how he felt about what the Knifemen needed him to do.

He stepped out onto the terrace.

"Don't do it, Jackson, I beg you." Abigail's words cut through the silence.

Jackson spoke through gritted teeth. "I don't do anything, Mother."

"No more lies." Abigail stood in front of him. "Your father thought he was a good liar, but I could read him like a book."

Jackson swallowed. "And I am my father's son."

His mother’s laugh was mirthless. "Hardly. You were always the one sneaking off to the bar to pay his tab, pulling him out of whatever ditch he slept in, and getting him home before sunrise. You tried so hard to make up for his mistakes, no wonder you were more than double the man your father ever was before you were ten."

A large knot formed in his throat at the wretched memories. "I can't marry Olivia, Mother." He avoided her eyes. "The engagement was a mistake. She doesn't belong here."

"She loves it here, can't you see that?" Abigail shook him by the arm. "The ranch, Virginia City, Montana, she wants to be part of it all."

Jackson shook his head. "It's no life for a lady like her. She'll realize that soon enough. I'm letting her go."

"For her own good?" Abigail thrust his arm aside. "I've seen the way you look at her. You're trying to protect her. Did it ever occur to you that she could help you? You don't have to do everything alone."

"I'm better off alone, Mother. Call off the wedding. Tell Olivia I'm sorry, but I will not marry her."

O
livia reeled back
, spilling the champagne she carried. With trembling hands she placed the crystal flute that was meant for Jackson down on a nearby table. She absently brushed the sweet, sparkling wine from her dress with one hand and with the other drank her flute dry in one swift motion.

She wasn’t surprised. Pushing back the tears that welled up in her eyes, she heaved a breath, sending a searing pain through her heart.

Jackson was too smart and resourceful not to have found out about her father's debts. Why should he give up his independence, all his work, and his free way of life to be saddled with an expensive burden such as herself?

All she had done tonight was proven she was good at idle conversation. Her father always called her a pretty, useless bauble, and he was right. She was of no use to a man like Jackson, and he was better off alone.

Olivia allowed herself one more glance of Jackson through the window. He was handsome in his formal attire, but he didn't need it. Jackson Mercer was not the kind of man that needed ornamentation.

And that was all she was. Olivia hung her head. Just an ornament, so easy to toss aside.

S
he had planned
to go straight to Lady Dubuque and tell her what she overheard, but a wave of renewed hope tossed her off-course. Lord Allen had arrived, and when he doffed his hat women sighed at the sight of his wavy white-gold hair. He smiled politely as fathers pushed their daughters in his path, but Lord Allen strode straight toward Olivia.

"Lady Tarrington, I hear congratulations are in order." Lord Allen chirped with a sweeping bow.

"Funny, I just heard otherwise." The words gushed out before she could stop herself. "I mean …" Ears burning, she cleared her throat. "News travels fast around the territory."

He kissed the back of her hand, never taking his gaze off her face. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. Still, they sparkled and her cheeks heated as his distinct interest was unmistakable.

Lady Dubuque wedged herself between the two of them. "Lord Allen, how good of you to come."

"Your grace, it's a pleasure. In fact, I was just telling Lady Olivia I am in need of pleasant company and was hoping you would both join me for dinner tomorrow night?"

Lord Allen tucked Olivia's hand into the crook of his arm and smiled down at her.

Lady Dubuque measured the couple with one arched eyebrow, a slow smile danced on the corners of her lips. "We would be delighted, Lord Allen. I do believe you were just in touch with Lord Tarrington, were you not?"

Olivia tilted her head to a side. "You know my father, Lord Allen?"

"Yes, we belonged to the same club in London. In fact, your father gave me quite excellent business advice. Lord Allen smiled warmly. He has a head for numbers despite his recent run of bad luck."

So Lord Allen knew of her family's troubles. Her heart sank. His attention to her was no more than pity.

Lord Allen ran a gloved forefinger across Olivia's cheek. "I'm sorry, my dear, how awful of me to bring up bad times, but the good news is they are soon over."

Olivia nodded.

"I feel like it's fate that we are both here at the same time. I wrote to your father to tell him his advice was spot on and to ask him to partner with me in a new venture."

She raised her eyes to Lord Allen. There was no pity in his look. He gave her such a hopeful smile that Olivia's spirits lifted and she smiled in return.

"So, please, say you will come to dinner tomorrow night?"

Lady Dubuque nodded. "We would be delighted, my good fellow."

"Excellent, excellent." Lord Allen clapped his hands. "And here you are without any champagne. Please let me bring you both a glass."

Almost as tall as Jackson, he was at ease with his height, his shoulders thrown back and head held high. He moved easily through the crowded room. Lord Allen smiled and nodded, his black eyes twinkling, his white-blond hair alit under the chandeliers.

From across the room, he grinned at Olivia and held up the three champagne flutes that he clutched easily in his slender fingers. A burst of excitement crackled through her body.

"Quite a conquest, my dear," Lady Dubuque murmured. "What a pity he is too late and you are engaged."

Olivia rolled her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand. "I think you should ask your dear friend Abigail about that."

Lady Dubuque's eyes widened. "Really, why? Has something happened?"

Olivia tilted her chin. "There she is, just coming in from a conversation with her son."

Jackson spotted them and purposefully changed direction. A frown creased Lady Dubuque's forehead. "I'll straighten this all out right now, my dear. Don't worry. Are you alright if I do so now? What will you do?"

"Oh, me?" Olivia smiled breezily as Lord Allen returned with the flutes. "I am going to dance."

"
H
ere comes
Lady Dubuque and she looks worried." Abigail winced. "You already said something to Olivia?"

Jackson shook his head. "No, unless she overheard somehow."

He scanned the room. Lord Allen led Olivia into a dance and Jackson choked on a low growl. A ring quickly formed around the dance floor as all of Virginia City society jostled each other to watch the couple.

A young girl pushed past Jackson and swooned. "Just like a fairy tale."

Her friend giggled. "Did you see how he bowed to her?

The first girl squealed. "How wonderful!"

"She's so beautiful and he is … what's the word? Dashing." She sighed. "Completely dashing."

He had to stride out onto the dance floor and take Olivia out of Lord Allen's embrace. More people pushed in front of him before he could move. His heart sank, unable to break through the thick human barricade.

He hung his head.
It is as it should be.

Lord Allen whispered something in his beloved's ear and she laughed. A collective sigh rippled around the room. Jackson was forgotten on the fringes, and he told himself to let go. Olivia tossed her head and laughed. Sick to his stomach, he turned away. His mother and Lady Dubuque caught his eye. He gritted his teeth at the speculation in their raised eyebrows.

When the dance came to an end, the room erupted in applause. Jackson reached for another drink, finishing it in one long draught. He turned back and Olivia was standing beside him.

His mouth went dry. "Nice dance?"

"Yes, thank you." Olivia smiled demurely. "Lord Allen is quite charming. Lady Dubuque and I have been invited to dine at his house tomorrow night."

Jackson raised his shoulders and puckered his nose. "Good to have something to look forward to."

"Quite." She raised her chin. "Now that I do not have a wedding to plan."

A pit opened in his stomach. "You overheard me talking with my mother?"

"Yes. How lucky to be better off alone." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure my father feels the same though. The poor man is stuck with a houseful of spinster daughters."

Jackson found it hard to swallow, repulsed by the parallel she drew. "You're going home then?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head "I'm no longer welcome there either." She tossed her hand, her smile tight. "But never mind that, I will go now and gather up my things."

He reached for her, but it was too late. Olivia slipped through his fingers and disappeared amongst the sea of guests. A hundred pair of ridiculing eyes were fixed on him. Their judgement meant nothing to him. The ache was so much deeper, and he knew the hurting would never stop.

L
ady Dubuque laid
her hand on Olivia's shoulder and shook it gently, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I said, my dear, if you're not up to this please say so. We can turn the carriage around right now and go back."

"Go back where?" Olivia's eyes flashed "Mercer Ranch? Jackson is gone, and Abigail is so embarrassed she can hardly look at me." She pressed her lips together. "No, this dinner is exactly what I need."

"This is a simple misunderstanding." Lady Dubuque nodded. "It must be. Jackson must have a good reason for calling off the engagement."

"He doesn't need a good reason. He is free to keep me or reject me, and he made his choice." Olivia crossed her arms across her chest and sighed.

"Come now. You are more than goods to be traded, my dear."

Olivia swallowed hard. "I'm afraid my father would disagree."

A footman opened the carriage door. She took his hand before Lady Dubuque could say anything else. Blinking back the tears that stung her eyes, Olivia looked up at Lord Allen's lodgings. Prior to his arrival in Virginia City, he had purchased the entire corner of a block off Main Street and had it turned into a luxurious townhouse.

"Welcome, milady, welcome. I'm so glad you came." Lord Allen stepped out around his butler to escort Olivia inside himself.

Olivia smiled. "Thank you, Lord Allen. Your invitation was most appreciated."

"My dear, I told your father I would look out for you. He worries about you out here in the Wild West." Lord Allen turned to greet Lady Dubuque.

Every time he mentioned her father, a trail of apprehension slipped down her spine.

"I'm sorry my father never mentioned your acquaintance until now, Lord Allen." Olivia took the arm he offered. "Otherwise we could've traveled together."

"Our mutual respect didn't turn to friendship until you were already under sail, milady. I followed up on your father's advice when I arrived here in Virginia City. I came here directly and therefore beat you by just two weeks."

Lady Dubuque settled onto the settee and cleared her throat. "Business advice from Lord Tarrington?"

"Yes, your grace. I'm sure your husband too knew his acumen well." Lord Allen rang for dinner.

Lady Dubuque furrowed her brow, but Lord Allen didn't seem to notice. He made himself comfortable next to Olivia and gathered her hand into his.

Lord Allen's dark eyes pierced deep into hers. "I have the utmost respect for your father and your family, Lady Olivia, and to see you here gives me great hope for the future."

Olivia's smile smoothed over her worry as images of her future flashed before her. Broad shoulders and a brooding frown blocked her mind, creating a tight knot in her chest. Lord Allen was handsome, rich, entirely suitable, and offering her the ideal match. Yet every whispering thought recalled her mind to another.

She glanced out the window. The dusk was settling and she wondered again where Jackson might be.

J
ackson turned
up the collar of his ragged jacket against the cool mist. He was glad to be making his way along Main Street before the rain turned every rut to mud.

He winced, flexing his sore fingers to shake off the sting of his cut knuckles. The conversation with the foreman hadn't gone well, and Jackson came away with only the thinnest of leads. No names were revealed. The foreman had never heard of anyone higher up.

His orders came by mail. One time a man calling himself an inspector arrived at the mine and demanded to be shown around. The foreman obliged, but again no names were exchanged. Only as the inspector left the foreman overheard him telling his valet,
"Prince Charming was right. This should be easy pickings."

The hearsay was nothing solid, but at least now Jackson had a nickname to pass around, and he had a description of the 'inspector' to give to Thompson. The hotelier would look up the signature in his guestbook, if he was feeling cooperative, or Jackson would help him turn the pages.

The dark thought had Jackson so distracted he almost trampled Mr. James, the postmaster, who had come out to greet him.

"Mr. Mercer, how … how … uh … nice to see you."

Jackson was shocked at being addressed by the man whose face had turned ashen and he tugged at his collar as if he was choking, but he gave conversation another try.

"My … my wife was delighted with your soiree. Thank you for the invitation. Truly a highlight of our year. And, oh, you should hear Elizabeth talk about Lady Olivia dancing with Lord …"

Jackson scowled.

"Oh … uh … what I meant was it … uh …"

"I'm on my way somewhere, Mr. James. I will give Olivia your compliments. Please excuse me." Jackson moved away from the postmaster.

"Please … please, this telegram arrived for Lady Olivia today, and when I saw you I thought you might want to take it to her." Mr. James wet his lips and gulped.

Jackson ripped the telegram from the postmaster's hands. The old man held onto his glasses, turned, and fled.

"Thank you, Mr. James." Jackson called out, but he was too late.

Jackson shook his head and pouted. One short conversation and the people of Virginia City were enamored by her. Jackson hunched his shoulders and kept walking. They would hate him even more than before when word spread he'd called off the engagement.

"
W
hy
, hello, handsome."

Cinnamon's purr startled Jackson out of his thoughts, but he couldn't summon a smile. The madam perched on her tiptoes to hold her umbrella over Jackson's head, the perfect excuse to lean in close and let him get a good look down her ample bustier.

"I'm sorry, Cinnamon, but I really don't have time to talk. I need to find the sheriff." Jackson kept his eyes glued to her face.

"I was just thinking about finding the sheriff myself." Cinnamon's eyes wilted.

"What's the matter?"

"Some of the girls have started to complain about a rich patron. They won't name names, my girls are not fools, but it sounds like he finds his pleasure in their pain."

Jackson bit his lip. "Can't your boys take care of it?"

Cinnamon employed some of the roughest-looking men in Virginia City. She, the girls, and Jackson were the only ones that knew that each one of them had a heart of gold.

She wrinkled her nose. "He's paying the girls to stay quiet. Times are good for our line of work, and there's a long enough list of wealthy patrons that we don't know where to start."

"Can your bartender write?"

She nodded.

"Have him start logging the guests by description. Then you mark the times you notice fresh bruises. I'll check in two days from now."

"Thank you, Jackson. I knew I could count on you," Cinnamon crooned. Leaning closer she pressed her lips to his. She tasted sweet and wet with the rain, and for a moment Jackson gave in to the pleasure of the kiss, but it was scattered by a flash of golden curls and the haughty tip of a head and he pulled away.

Locking him in her embrace, Cinnamon arched back to study his face. "I heard you broke off your engagement."

Jackson cocked an eyebrow. "You do have the fastest ears in the west."

"Then why is she still on your mind?"

He unwound Cinnamon's arms from his neck and put her back on the now muddy ground. The hurt was scribbled on her face, but she wiped it clean away with a bright red smile.

Her eyes softened. "Jackson Mercer, you can't protect everyone. And if she loves you half as much as you love her, then you better consider it might be her that will save you, not the other way around."

Jackson was rooted to the spot where they had first met in the middle of the street, letting the rain wash over him, the truth of Cinnamon's words sinking in. He did love Olivia, there was no denying it. Mixed emotions coursed through him faster than a river, pushing him deeper by its depths. He closed his eyes fighting to come up for air.

The crackle of the telegram in his hand raised a fresh surge of anger. Olivia was so bound up in her duty to her father that she was willing to sacrifice herself. He tore open the telegram to see exactly what the disgraced lord demanded.

Accept Lord Allen's proposal - stop - Will strike gold with new venture - stop - London scandal lies - stop - Woman paid to accuse him - stop -

No concern for his daughter's welfare or happiness, no consideration for her feelings, and no sentiments of love. Jackson crumpled the telegram in his fist. Olivia deserved so much better than Lord Tarrington. Why the man was now selling her off to Lord Allen!

Lord Allen. Jackson stopped cold. Lord Tarrington had said his new venture would strike gold. He counted back in his memory. Lord Allen arrived shortly before the rockslide incident at one of the independent claims. Besides his polite conversations with Virginia City society, Lord Allen was only seen talking to a workman that fit the foreman's description of the 'inspector.'

Jackson ran toward the sheriff's office, praying he was in. He needed to lay it out for him as quickly as possible and go. It was dusk and Lady Olivia was just sitting down to eat with a dangerous man.