A Touch of Camelot (33 page)

"No message. I'm sorry, Mr. Shepherd."

Jilted.
Twice now, Cole reminded himself morosely, and yet, Gwin was nothing like Cynthia. Why, after all they had been through together, would she pack up and leave him like this? Why run? Why
now
?

"Mr. Shepherd?"

"Yes?"

"She did say one thing."

"What's that?"

"She asked when the first ferry was scheduled to depart for Oakland."

*

 The Oakland train station was bustling. Gwin and Arthur stood in line to board behind a robust, ruddy-faced gentleman with muttonchop whiskers.

Going home
, Gwin thought. Home. Kansas City for starters. Then? It was hard to think about where she wanted to go when all she could think about was what she was leaving behind.

Gwin and Arthur boarded, soon locating an empty compartment near the back of one of the Silver Palace sleeping cars. Gwin slid their bags beneath the table that separated their seats and settled in with a tired sigh.

She was trying to remain cheerful for Arthur's sake, but it wasn't easy. At least he'd finally stopped asking her about Cole, about why they hadn't waited to tell him goodbye. Gwin didn't yet feel up to disillusioning him with the ugly truth.

"Hey, Gwinnie! Look!" Arthur pointed at something over her shoulder. He wore a new set of clothes today, a clean white linen shirt with brown trousers, and he’d even combed his hair without a fuss.

Gwin turned around in her seat to see what had caught her brother's eye. The gentleman seated with his back to her was reading the paper. Over his shoulder, she could make out a double column heading from this morning's
Chronicle
: SLICK SIDNEY SLIPS THE KNOT!

Gwin's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "No …"

The gentleman must have heard her. He lowered the newspaper and turned to glower at her. "Is there something I can help you with, young lady?"

"No, thank you."

"Hmmm." The man turned back around, snapped his paper huffily, and raised it again to pick up where he left off.

Not to be deterred, Gwin began to read the article aloud. "Only hours after delivering incriminating testimony—"

The man whipped around again. "Am I inconveniencing you, miss?"

"Not at all."

"Is there something of particular interest to you?"

"Well, since you asked—"

He handed the paper to her with an arched brow. "Perhaps you would like to peruse it at your leisure so that I can then read my paper in peace?"

Gwin accepted it with a smile. "Why, aren't you kind."

Before the man could change his mind, she turned around in her seat and spread the paper out on the table between her and Arthur so they could read it together.

Only hours after delivering incriminating testimony against former business partner Jasper Barnes, Sidney Pierce, better known as City Hall hopeful Phineas Taylor, escaped the custody of a none-too-alert police department yesterday evening when ...

Arthur whooped. "He got away!"

Gwin shook her head. I’ll be darned... "

"Attaboy, Sidney! They can't keep us Pierces down!"

"I have a feeling he's gone for good this time, Arthur. I don't think we'll be hearing from him again."

"But at least he got away."

Gwin couldn't repress a smile. "He sure did, didn't he?"

After they finished the rest of the article, she returned the paper to its grumbling owner. It appeared that somehow Sidney had convinced the authorities that he needed to return to his home to retrieve evidence hidden in one of his safes.

Escorted by three police officers, Sidney had arrived at his home only to be greeted by a teary-eyed woman. After a heartrending homecoming scene, Gwin imagined Sidney might have taken the three officers aside.
"We're all men here, aren't we? I can speak frankly? Pete? Carl? Jim?"

Yes, it might have gone like that. Sidney would have gestured in the heartbroken woman's direction
. "I'm a doomed man, we all know it. Can you blame me for wanting just one last precious hour alone with my lady love? Is it too much to ask?"

Yes, yes, they were all men. They would have understood, but they wouldn't have been stupid about it. One man would have been outside the bedroom while another watched the windows and the balcony from the courtyard below.

It had been well over an hour later that they had finally broken down the locked bedroom door only to find the room deserted. Sidney and his mysterious lady love—now suspected to have been a French courtesan named Jasmine Devereaux—had inexplicably vanished.

 The police had torn the place apart in their search, soon discovering that the design of Sidney’s mansion resembled a medieval castle in more than just appearance. It was riddled with secret doors and winding passageways.
Safety nets and saddled horses.

Gwin smiled to herself. She had to give Sidney credit. He was
good
.

Arthur separated the slats of the venetian blinds with two fingers to peer out at the observation deck that sided their sleeping coach. "Hey, no one's out there. Let's go out so we can feel the wind when the train starts up."

Gwin started to decline, then thought better of it. Why not? They would be cooped up on this train for four days. "All right, just as long as you let me catch some shut-eye later. Promise?"

"You bet! I'll be quiet as a mouse."

Gwin followed her brother up the aisle. She felt dead on her feet after getting little sleep the night before. The words in that telegram had played over and over in her mind. She wondered how long it would be until she could put the painful memory of Cole Shepherd behind her.

Once outside, Gwin was glad her brother had suggested it. The morning sun was warm and bright in a cloudless blue sky, and a cool breeze swept in from the bay. She gripped the iron railing and leaned forward, closing her eyes and tilting her head to let the sun bathe her face.

She thought about Sidney's bank account in Kansas City. She didn't know how much was there, but she had already decided to leave it untouched if she could. It would be their nest egg, their safety net. Otherwise, it seemed to Gwin that a sum of money like that should be saved for something important like Arthur's education.

She heard the door of the observation deck open behind her and felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought of some chatty passenger intruding on her solitude, but it was Arthur who spoke first.

"Cole! What are you doing here?"

"A better question might be, what are you two doing here? Just where did you think you were going?"

Gwin’s breath caught in her throat. She thought she was done having to face him. Now, here he was, expecting what? To apologize? To take her into custody?

Gwin turned to face him. He looked as gallant and princely as he ever had in her dreams, but his expression was somber, and there was a hint of anger behind those intelligent brown eyes.

"You should have known I'd catch up with you, Miss Pierce. I always do."

Gwin didn't answer.

They appraised each other, intimate strangers, neither of them moving or saying anything until Cole broke the impasse. "Could you leave us alone for a minute, Arthur? I want to talk to your sister."

Arthur looked from one to the other like a saloon cowboy expecting two gamblers to push back from their table and fast-draw. "Uh, okay." He moved for the door. "I'll keep your seat warm, Gwinnie, all right?"

"Fine. This won't take long."

As soon as Arthur was gone, Cole spoke. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with
me
?" Gwin was flabbergasted that he had the audacity to ask. All of her hurt and anger erupted. "Garden City! That's what's the matter with me!"

Cole looked confused. "What's Garden City got to do with ...?" A sudden understanding sparked in his eyes. "How did you even know about that?"

Gwin turned away and grasped the railing with trembling fingers. "It doesn't matter how I know. What matters is that you planned to turn me in."

"Where did you get a stupid idea like that?"

Gwin tried to steady herself, furiously blinking back tears. "You can just give it up, Cole. I'm not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever. Maybe it's true I stole that broken down old horse, but we were desperate. We'd run out of money, and the nearest town was miles away, and—"

"Gwin!"

She swung around to face him, forgetting to hide her tears. "How could you do that to me?"

Cole closed the distance between them in one stride, grabbing her arm at the wrist and holding it rigid between them. "If you'd just be quiet a minute, I can explain."

“Let go of me!” Gwin tried to pull away, but Cole wouldn't release her.

"Not until you've heard my side of it. Do you want to know the real reason I wanted to take you back to Garden City?"

Gwin didn't want him touching her or standing so close. It wasn't fair. It unsettled and frazzled emotions that weren't setting on such firm foundations to begin with. "So, what are you going to do with me this time, Cole? Wrestle me to the deck? Handcuff me to the rail? Shackle me to the cowcatcher?"

"None of those suggestions strike me as a bad idea at the moment."

"Fine. Say your piece."

"Do you remember telling me that if you could have one wish in the world, it would be to start over?"

"What are you talking about?"

"In the hospital. You told me you'd give just about anything to be able to wipe the slate clean and start over."

Gwin frowned, vaguely recalling the conversation.

"I took you at your word. I sent a telegram to Fritz asking him to look into the charges that were pending against you in Garden City."

"The horse-stealing charges?"

Cole shook her wrist and released her. "Yes, the horse-stealing charges. What else? And do you know what he found?"

Gwin massaged her wrist. She was getting the feeling that maybe she'd jumped to a hasty conclusion. "No, what did he find?"

He found out that the fellow you stole that old roan from was a horse trader by the name of Simpson."

Gwin frowned. "No wonder he had so many horses tethered to the back of his wagon."

"I always knew you were a smart girl."

"But I still don't understand what that has to do with—"

"Have you ever met an honest horse trader?"

"Well, no."

"Simpson is no exception. It turns out half the county despises the man, including the marshal. As far as he's concerned, if you show up to face the charges and agree to pay restitution, he's willing to drop the case."

"Oh." Gwin focused on the brown lapels of Cole's alpaca coat. She felt drained. And stupid. Oh, so very stupid. "I don't know what to say."

"I can think of a few things."

She looked up at him. He wasn't angry anymore, but she saw something in his eyes that made her feel even worse—wounded accusation. "I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm going to Garden City."

"I guess you are."

"I'll get a job and—"

"I have money."

"What money?"

Cole patted his coat pocket. "Two weeks' advance salary. Right here. That should cover it."

"But what are you going to live on?"

"I've got some saved."

"No, I can't let you do that."

Cole let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, you can."

"But why? Why do you want to do this?"

"Because I— Ah, damn it.” Cole reached with his good hand and pulled her to him firmly.

What began as a gasp of surprise rapidly dissolved into a whimper of contentment as Gwin relaxed into his kiss. Her hands slid up over the lapels of his coat to encircle his neck. Gwin knew then that even if she could manage to run to all four corners of the earth and back again, she would never be able to stop loving this man.

When he ended the kiss, Gwin was breathless. She opened her eyes to find that he had pulled back only far enough to study her face. "Marry me."

Gwin's heart leapt. She wanted to cry out
yes!
She wanted to jump for joy. She wanted to hug him tight and never let go. But something held her back. It took her a moment to gather up the mettle to say it. "Is it because you're worried I might be expecting?"

He seemed to try to read something in her eyes. "No. Unless ..." He pressed a forefinger beneath her chin. "Are you?"

"No."

"Oh." He smiled. "That's okay. I reckon we'll get it right sooner or later."

Gwin blinked. "What?"

Cole held her face in his hand. "I'm tired of being alone."

Gwin gazed up into those familiar tawny brown eyes and felt herself falling for him all over again. When he let go of her, though, she stepped back. "Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because, you said it yourself, Shepherd. I'm a horse thief, a cardsharp, a—"

"Not anymore you’re not." Cole smoothed a curl away from her temple. "I'm in love with you, Miss Pierce. I have been for quite some time."

Gwin's heart lightened. How many times had she dreamed of him saying those words? She slipped her arms around his waist beneath his coat and hugged him. "Not for as long as I have."

He sounded amused. "I wouldn't bet on that. I think I was a goner from the moment you barreled into me on the street in Caldwell. In fact, if Clell Martin hadn't knocked me out in that stinking cow pen in Abilene, I can't help wondering if —"

"It never stopped me, Shepherd. I've been dreaming of loving you for a very long time."

"What?"

"Never mind. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday."

The train's whistle cut the air, announcing the last call before departure, and Gwin rested her head against his chest. She felt as light as a sprig of dandelion fluff on a breezy summer day. "You asked me a question once, and I think I want you to ask me again."

"What question is that?"

Gwin closed her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a sound she wanted to listen to for a very, very long time. "You asked me if I believed in fairy tales. You asked me if I believed in once upon a time and princesses in tall towers and knights in shining armor and living happily ever after."