Sweet Surrender (Mercers of Montana Book 1) (8 page)

S
heriff Scotsman was pouring
himself a hot cup of coffee when Jackson flung open the door to his office. The coffee, the color and thickness of tar, sloshed across his wrist and he swore, glaring at the door. He softened his gaze when he recognized the intruder. "I take it you found out something from the foreman?"

Jackson stuck out his lip. "No, but I strongly suspect Lord Allen is behind it all. He wants to buy out all the small claim holders and then sell the entirety to an industrial mining company."

Sheriff Scotsman sipped the coffee, winced, and sat down behind his desk. "Why on Earth would Lord Allen do all of that? He is rich."

"Is he? Or is he using his title like a disguise?"

"No, no he is about to become the next Duke of Elmore." The sheriff reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a swath of papers.

Jackson cocked his head. "What is that?"

"A little research. Our Lord Allen might make the ladies swoon, but he's made more than one man a little edgy around here. So I checked him out. Turns out he is everything they say he is and more. The man might have an outdated sense of entitlement and the damn title to go along with it but he's smart. Investing in everything from tobacco farming to industrial machinery."

Pacing the office, Jackson tracked mud as he mulled it over. Sheriff Scotsman leaned back in his chair and lifted his mug for another sip.

"Jackson's right." Silas burst in.

"Lord Almighty!" Sheriff Scotsman cried, spilling again. "You slip in through the cell bars?"

A ghost of smile hovered on Silas' lips. "Something like that. I think if you look a little closer at Lord Allen's portfolio, you'll see his investments lean heavily toward the production of industrial mining machines."

The sheriff scratched his head. "And how did you come by that idea?"

"I followed up on Jackson's lead about an 'inspector.' Happens Thompson put him up a few days ago and the man's been there ever since."

The sheriff nodded. "The hotelier let you into his room?"

Silas shrugged. "Something like that."

Sheriff Scotsman stood up, went to the door, and tossed the remnants of his coffee out into the rain. "So what you two are saying is Lord Allen is using his money and power to scare claim holders into selling. Then he's buying up the properties through his various companies, and finally he will sell all of Virginia City to an industrial mining company that in turn will buy machines from him?"

Silas rubbed his stubbled chin. "A surefire way to make a lot of money. But there's more." He waved the telegram that Jackson had passed to him. "It's a game to him. All of it. And he's not about to lose."

Jackson jumped up on to his feet. "My God, you're right. He used Lord Tarrington to get to Olivia, and he plans to use her to stop me." He tore open the door to the sheriff's office and ran out into the night.

Out in front of the hotel, a gray horse woke with a whine as Jackson untied it and vaulted on its back. He spurred the horse up the road, following the carriage heading back to Mercer Ranch.

T
he sudden stop
jolted Lady Dubuque awake. Before she could sit up, the door to the carriage ripped open. The cold notch of a pistol's hammer drawing back next to her ear stopped her exclamation.

"I will fire." Olivia's voice was as brittle as ice.

"It's Jackson." The looming figure hissed. "Light the lantern."

Lady Dubuque turned up the gaslight lantern and chuckled. "Mr. Mercer, what a surprise. Need a lift home?"

Jackson bowed his head. "I just need a moment with Lady Olivia."

Before she could lower the pistol, he plucked it out of her hand and pulled her outside. The night air did nothing to cool the angry flame on her cheeks.

Olivia crossed her arms. "This couldn't wait?" She turned her head away. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Then just listen to me. Lord Allen is using you. If he thinks I suspect he is the one behind the mine and the accidents, he will use you to silence me." Jackson grabbed her hands and held them tight.

She wrenched free and paced away from him up the dark road. "And this is why you called off our engagement? You were trying to protect me?"

He reached out to her, but she was gone. He raised his voice. "I knew I was no good for you. I knew my work would tarnish you one way or another." His shoulders drooped. "I deal … I deal … in violence, and it always comes back to me. I wanted to make sure it didn't come back to you."

She turned back and stepped closer. "And you believe Lord Allen is the one to blame?"

"I know it sounds outlandish, especially as your father is encouraging you to marry him …" Jackson held out the crumpled telegram.

Olivia slipped it into her pocket without reading it. "I don't know what I believe, Jackson. So, until I do, I am accepting Lord Allen's invitation to stay at the hotel. His carriage will be along to the ranch in the morning to collect me."

"And Lady Dubuque?"

Olivia shook her head. "I will be asking her to stay with her friends at Mercer Ranch."

She marched past Jackson and climbed into the carriage that set off toward the ranch when Sheriff Scotsman and Silas cantered up.

"She's moving into the hotel at Lord Allen's request?" The sheriff winced. "Thompson told us as much when we explained about the horse. I didn't want to believe it."

"The fool's putting herself in danger all because her bigger fool of a father has no regard for her worth," Jackson spat.

Silas shook his head. "Lady Olivia is no fool. From what I know of her, she's put herself where we need her the most. If anyone will find the evidence we need to stop Lord Allen, it will be her."

In the chill of the night a black wave of fear swallow Jackson. Olivia was putting herself in danger to save him?

O
livia smiled
as Lord Allen ordered their luncheon and poured her a glass of wine.

He tipped his glass to her. "To a lovely lady whom fate saw fit to send my way."

She blushed at his toast and laughed at his clever observations. Their lunch arrived and her handsome date continued to charm her, even as her insides roiled. She knew he was a liar.

"Truly, I owe all of this to your father." Lord Allen spread his arms about the room. He had been carrying on in the same vein last night and since he arrived an hour ago.

Olivia smiled again and was convinced Jackson was right. She saw the sheriff arrive as the carriage pulled away, and he had no reason to make up such an outlandish lie. On the other hand, Lord Allen's lies about her father's business acumen, his sage advice, and his wise investment strategies were making her sick.

"Lord Allen, I apologize, but you must know about my father's debt." Olivia feigned a doe-eyed gaze. "I cannot bear to have you think better of me than you should."

Lord Allen's dark eyes filled with sympathy. "My dear lady, I know about your father's debt, and I assure you they are no obstacle to me."

"Surely, my lord, there are better prospects for you in London." Olivia batted her eyelashes. "Why would you settle for me?"

"Oh my dear…" he threw back his head and laughed "…I am free to choose my wife and why not let it be a love match?"

The ladies at the next table sighed and his eyes sparkled at their reaction. Olivia forced a hand to her chest and smiled demurely.

"Then, my lord, may I tell you what is troubling my heart?"

He sobered and considered her for a moment, his eyes growing wide. "Your father has told you of my scandal?"

"Only that someone was paid to make you look the villain." Olivia eyes widened to match his, but not believing it for a moment.

"Yes, yes. Though you are correct in assuming it was the catalyst for my leaving London." A gentle smiled played on his lips. "And isn't that just the way fate works? When things looked darkest I ended up here and then you arrived!"

Her stomach lurched and she opened her mouth to excuse herself when she heard shouts from the street. News of a fire at a nearby claim swept through the dining room. It had destroyed the camp where the families lived, claimed the lives of two men and dozens injured.

"Oh, Lord Allen, I know how to help. We must go and take supplies." Olivia jumped up and signaled the waiter.

She ordered him to gather clean linens, butter, and water, but Lord Allen shook his head and the man retreated from the table. The lord yawned, sipped his wine, and gestured for Olivia to return to her seat.

"My dear lady, I am sure help is on the way."

Olivia threw down her napkin and headed for the door. She didn't make it across the lobby before Lord Allen caught her elbow in a cruel grip.

"Thompson, my good man." Lord Allen swiveled around, his iron hold intact. "Lady Olivia is not feeling well. Could you please help me get her to her room?"

The hotel manager skittered out from behind a desk and followed them upstairs. Lord Allen opened the door and shoved a protesting Olivia inside.

Shutting the door on her, he addressed Thompson in a pleasant voice. "Please lock the door, my good man, I wouldn't want anyone disturbing her."

The key was turned in its hole. Olivia twisted the doorknob and pulled on it to no avail.

"Open up." She banged on the door, but there was no response but for the grating of a bolt settling in to place.

J
ackson was
on his way to the hotel to check on Olivia when he heard the news of the fire.

"Bunch of fools." A well-dressed man shrugged. "They were bound to get hurt one way or the other."

"I heard from the bank an offer came in on their claim just the other day," said a woman with a parasol.

The man chuckled. "I bet they wish they'd sold it now."

Jackson's skin crawled as he walked around them and moved on down the street. Knots of people were forming and the gossip was already moving faster than the fire itself.

"I heard the wife was a drinker." An older woman shielded her mouth. "Probably started the fire stumbling over the supper." Her eyes twinkled.

"They let their children run wild. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them did it," responded another.

Jackson weaved in and out through the groups of people, taking in their idle assumptions. Sheriff Scotsman and the doctor had already left for the claim, but no one else seemed moved to help.

"Probably for the best. Those brothers couldn't handle the claim anyway."

"Claims like that should be in the hands of professionals. The gold rush days are over and it's serious business now."

Only a few people halfheartedly tried to see the other side.

"Poor family, no choice but to sell now. With so many people injured they'll never be able to work the mine enough to live on what little they find." Tears glistened in the woman's eyes.

An older man frowned. "Strange how there's been a run of bad luck up in those hills. The gold's still there but seems like the people are in danger of disappearing."

Jackson couldn't stand it anymore. He jumped up onto a water trough and addressed the people in the street.

"We can help."

A few eyes turned around, looked and him, and looked away.

"Listen to me. We can help." He raised his voice louder still. "They'll need carts to bring down the injured, clean bandages, and water. We can start gathering food for the family and offer them a place to stay."

"Who are you to preach?" asked Elizabeth, the postmaster's wife. She turned to her neighbor. "You know he jilted Lady Olivia. Probably didn't want her in the way of his schemes and robberies."

Rambunctious laughter rippled through the crowd.

A man he didn't recognize shook a fist at him. "If it weren't for your family, you'd have been strung up long ago, outlaw."

Jackson's lips quivered. "I know what you think of me, and you are right. I've done my share of wrong deeds, but I did them for the people of this city."

The crowd closed in and the air filled with booing.

He raised his hands. "Hear me out."

The jeering continued.

His eyes flashed in defiance. "I said, hear me out."

The murmurs turned to pin-drop silence.

"No matter what you think of me, there are people out there who need help. I am leaving now to see what I can do because I cannot stand around idle while our fellow citizens need help."

He sprang down as lithe as a cat and strode away, refusing to look behind him.

A shout of "Wait!" stopped him in his tracks. Heart pounding at the possibility of the angry mob turning on him, he instinctively reached down toward his boot. He shook his head. The knife was no good to him now. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned around to face them.

A large group had formed. Two men hitched up carts. The women counted up the food in their baskets and discussed finding more. The hardware store owner appeared with clean bandages.

His stern face broke in to a smile of deep appreciation. Despite his reputation, Jackson had said what needed to be said, and to his relief the people of Virginia City listened.

O
livia ran
to the window and hammered on the glass, but everyone on the street seemed too busy talking about the fire to look up. Across the street from the hotel was the Rose Bower where Cinnamon sauntered on to her balcony to watch the melee below.

Olivia pushed open her balcony door and stepped outside, waving frantically to get Cinnamon's attention. The redhead saw her gestures, tipped her head, and waved. Olivia mimed the slamming of a door and pointed to Lord Allen who had joined a group on the street below.

Cinnamon's face clouded. She turned and disappeared back into the Rose Bower. Olivia's heart sank. She looked down onto the street calling for help, but the noisy crowd drowned out her cries.

Lord Allen looked up at the balcony. Olivia ducked back down and crept inside. Pacing around the room, her heart pounded. If Jackson was right, then Lord Allen was behind the fire. She was his alibi, sitting so nicely for everyone to see at lunch. No one would believe he had locked her in her room. She was trapped in more ways than one.

O
ne of the
men in a cart caught up to Jackson and gave him a lift up the road to the claim. Sheriff Scotsman met them as they approached with a relieved wave.

"The fire was bad. Happened early this morning while they were sleeping. We should've seen the smoke and come sooner, but no one knew." The sheriff wiped his brow and sighed heavily.

"More people are coming" The cart driver indicated behind with his thumb. "Your man here rounded up a good group of volunteers."

Jackson thanked the man and jumped down to join the sheriff.

Sheriff Scotsman lowered his voice. "I think your cover's blown." He chuckled. "Next they'll be thinking you are a good person."

Jackson grinned. "There might have to be a fire in hell first."

Entering the camp, he bit his lip, and regretted his choice of words. Canvas tarps the family used as tents were burned down to charred posts and exposed, still smoldering piles of ash. Eyes watering as they walked the blackened wreckage, what used to be a bedroll reignited and flames crackled.

Off to the side two bodies lay under a tattered blanket. The injured stumbled around in shock, burns apparent on their arms and legs. One man lay on the ground, the side of his neck and face burned an angry, raw red.

More carts arrived. Jackson left the sheriff to question the family and went to direct the volunteers. He separated out those willing to help the doctor and directed them to set up a tent for those injured that couldn't be moved.

A search party was formed to find the missing family members that had run off in the panic. Invitations for places to stay poured in, and he met with all those offering to decide what would work best for the family.

"The Taylors live closest to the doctor." Lord Allen's voice cut through the crowd. "They could set up a temporary camp in their field. That way the family would be close enough to those he needs to treat long-term."

Heads nodded and whispers went around. Lord Allen rolled up his sleeves and accepted people's awestruck nods. He cut a fine figure for a volunteer and Jackson tried not to scowl at him.

He whisked around expecting to see Olivia. She was not helping the doctor as he assumed she would be. Neither was she comforting the family or helping salvage beloved heirlooms from the ashes.

Lord Allen slapped Jackson on the arm. "I asked Olivia to stay at the hotel. She wanted to help, but I impressed on her that it was not safe."

Jackson nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. He went to the far end of the camp and helped safely knock down the teetering tent poles.

"People are impressed that he's come to help," Silas whispered in Jackson's ear.

"It seems my theory was wrong," Jackson said, "and yours too. Olivia is not here."

Silas drew his lips into a straight line. "I'll find her."

"No, you're needed here. It's obvious I was wrong about our Lord Allen. I have my reasons for disliking him, but none of them make him a villain."

"What about Olivia? Are you sure she is safe?" Silas asked.

Jackson nodded. "At least she listens to him."

Silas frowned. "Something's not right."

"Everything's the way it should be." Jackson shrugged. "She's made her decision and it seems like it was the best one."

T
he doorknob rattled
and for a moment Olivia hoped Thompson had some good in him. The door didn't open and she shut her eyes tight. Footsteps moved away from the room. Rushing to the door she banged on it with renewed calls for help. She placed her ear to the door, but it was quiet as a church.

Panic built up and was gnawing her ragged when a flash of red moved across her window and the balcony door swung open. Cinnamon walked into the room and grabbed Olivia by the arms.

She shook her hand. "Are you alright?" She looked deep into Olivia's eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes. Who? Olivia's head spun.

Cinnamon's eyes moved over face and pushed up Olivia's sleeve searching.

"No, no, not like that."

Cinnamon heaved a sigh of relief. "Lord Allen. He is a cruel man." She shuddered. "You have no idea how cruel. Let's get you out of here before he comes back."

Olivia swallowed hard. "Wait." She wiped the perspiration off her forehead. "How did you get in here?"

"The room next door is empty and all the balconies are near enough. An old trick so we can run johns right under Thompson's nose," Cinnamon winked. "Why?"

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's one room I need to get into before we go."

T
he fire was put
out and the first two carts moved the injured down toward town. Everything that could be salvaged from the ashes was cleaned and loaded up to be taken to the family's temporary camp.

On the edge of the camp, Jackson wiped his brow and watched Lord Allen comfort a victim's wife.

Sheriff Scotsman joined him. "There is no way it was an accident."

"Everyone's speculating." Jackson shrugged. "Some say it was a gaslight too close to the canvas."

"Incorrect. There's no glass or lantern fixtures near the start of the fire. But I did find this." He held up a bottle of alcohol, melted and twisted into an odd lump.

Jackson rubbed his chin. "How does that prove it wasn't an accident?"

"They're teetotalers, not a drop of drink amongst the lot." The sheriff nodded. "And they all vouch for each other. Not many places to hide a bottle like this in such tight quarters."

"So someone started the fire on purpose to scare them away?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Not to scare them." He winced. "The bank made them a sealed offer for a client multiple times, but they refused."

Jackson cringed.

"The fire starts, people die or get injured, the claim goes unworked, and they cannot live on what they have saved. They are forced to sell it just to survive." The sheriff sighed.

Jackson squared his shoulders. "Any idea who it is?"

"I don't have anything concrete, but yours is the best theory we have."

"You mean St. Allen?" Jackson cocked his chin at the people who gave the scoundrel thanks. "I think the people of Virginia City would rise up against me for even suggesting it."

"What about Olivia?" the sheriff asked.

Jackson smirked. "What about her?"

"Like Silas said, do you think she'll be able to find some evidence for us?"

"She's not here and why would she?" He swallowed the knot in his throat. "Lord Allen is the perfect match for her." He sniffed. "I hope they'll be happy together."

The sheriff raised an arm to contradict him when the search party returned in a panic. Jackson and the sheriff ran over to see what had happened. A young man, his face covered in soot and dust, leaned heavily on two men from the search party.

The man on his left explained. "The children ran from the fire but didn't know where to go. In the smoke they mistook an old mine shaft for the one their father worked." He stopped to catch his breath. "They sheltered inside, but there was a cave-in. He heard the mite’s calling but couldn't reach them. We found him close to the entrance."

"And you didn't go in after them?" Jackson thundered.

The man shook his head, wide eyed. "The shaft is unstable. You can hear it crumbling. It's just too…" the man was began to cough "…too dangerous."

A crowd of volunteers shook their heads, murmuring amongst themselves, and all eyes turned on Jackson, who knew what everyone was thinking. They all had families, loved ones of their own, and the risk was too great. He took off at a run in the direction of the old shaft.

"Jackson, wait, what are you doing?" Silas shouted after him.

"Someone has to get to those children," Jackson yelled as he scrambled into the opening of the old mine shaft.

W
hen Olivia and Cinnamon joined
, the curious volunteers that followed Jackson filtered through the woods to ring the entrance to the old mine shaft.

"Who's inside?" Olivia asked the sheriff.

He stiffened. "Oh, milady, Jackson's gone in."

"I told him to wait," Silas muttered. "He said he had nothing to lose."

From across the small clearing in front of the mine shaft Lord Allen's stare pierced though her like a knife. He whispered in his valet's ear and stepped back into the underbrush.

"Here! Over here! One of the children," a lone voice called.

The group rushed to search the underbrush. Olivia was certain Lord Allen was behind the confusion. Cinnamon grasped her hand and pulled, perhaps afraid of the consequences of defying the lord.

"Oh, look! His valet." Olivia pointed.

Lord Allen's valet unsheathed a knife and slipped inside the old mine shaft.

Olivia's heart skipped a beat. "Go, quickly, tell the sheriff."

"What are you going to do?" Cinnamon's eyes widened. "You can't." She shook her head. "You mustn't."

Olivia narrowed her eyes, her face set in stone. "I have to." She nodded. "He would do the same for me."

"Then go, but take this." Cinnamon pressed a small pearl-handled pistol into Olivia's hand.

Olivia silently accepted the weapon, unable to breathe for the lump in her throat. If Lord Allen's man found Jackson in the mine shaft he would kill him. Fear of collapse would keep others out, and he would die alone with no one to suspect he was murdered.

Around her everyone was too busy to notice. She ran straight into the old mine shaft, scrambling over the first cave-in as she had seen the valet do. Her breath came in short pants, her voice straining to call out for Jackson. The slightest sound seemed to bring more dirt crumbling down from the walls, and she dared not draw the attention of the valet.

Ahead she saw the flickering torches that Jackson possibly lit as he made his way down the shaft. She followed them as soundlessly as she could, holding her breath in the hope of hearing his voice.

Around another crumbling bend she heard the voices of children calling, like the wind whispering through the trees. The sound came through a small opening in a side tunnel. Olivia tiptoed over and leaned down to peer inside. A faint light prickled within. That was probably where the children were hidden.

In the dirt below were large footprints. Jackson must have stopped at the same place. Perhaps he was forced to move on because he was too big to fit through the opening, but Olivia could slip inside without a squeeze.

She raised her dress, in preparation to wriggle inside, when she heard a sudden grunt just ahead in the tunnel.

"What are you doing, man?"

Her heart fluttered. It was Jackson. Olivia ran toward the scuffle. She grabbed a shovel from a pile of rubble, tore through the mine shaft, and came upon the two men. Jackson lay very still. Without slowing down she swung the shovel and knocked Lord Allen's valet aside.

"Jackson," she called over her shoulder, hoping he was alright. She turned around, shovel in the air, ready to defend him. "He's trying to kill you!"

"Not anymore," Jackson sang, gently taking the shovel from her hands and raising it high into the air with a wicked glint in his eyes. The valet groaned and took to his heels, running deeper into the shaft.

The relief of seeing Jackson alive made her knees buckle. He caught her and pulled her close for a searing kiss. Revived by the jolt of lightning his lips sent through her, Olivia pushed him away in her haste to explain her plan.

"There's an opening I can fit through. I'll find the children and lead them out." Her face flushed and her chest pounded.

Jackson placed a finger to her lips. "You've done enough, my angel."

She shivered. "How can you say that?"

He cocked his head toward the direction she had come from, with a warm grin. Three dirty faces peered at them from behind a pile of rocks. The children were safe and Jackson was alive. Olivia surrendered into his arms and kissed him again.

O
livia emerged
from the old mine shaft with Jackson and the children. Lord Allen swooped in and caught her close.

He grabbed her arm and held it against his chest. "Milady, we all feared the worst." With a quick look around, he raised his voice. "He tried to dispatch his jealousy while we searched for the missing children."

Olivia wrenched her hands free and shoved him aside "The children are here and they are safe, no thanks to you."

"Please, dearest, you are overwrought." Lord Allen waved his arms about. "Give her air."

The crowd parted and he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her away from the old mine shaft. Olivia shook his arm away, the jeers of the crowd ringing in her ears. Lord Allen clung on.

"Should take care of him now."

"If he were a dog, we'd put him down."

"Dangerous."

She spun out of Lord Allen's grip and ran to Jackson's side.

"You are wrong about Jackson Mercer. He has done nothing but serve the people of Virginia City. When a hard hand was the only way to stop the violence gripping this town, he didn't look to someone else to take it on. He did what was needed and he accepted the responsibility for his actions."