Anything for You (34 page)

The camp manager hesitated before saying, “Gypsy, I suppose I should ask if you want your thousand dollars now, or if you want to wait until after the drive.”

She frowned. “Thousand dollars? Are you telling me to walk?”

A smile struggled to tilt his tight lips, but failed. “The reward for uncovering Rose's murderer. It's yours. Of course, you can share it with Lassiter. I'm sure the two of you can spend it in style.”

“I don't want your money, Calvin.”

As if she had not spoken, Farley demanded, “Your gun, Lassiter.” He held out his hand.

Adam withdrew the pistol from under his coat and offered it to the camp manager. “Be careful. It's loaded.”

“I expected it would be.” His haunted eyes looked from the gun to Adam. “You should have told me you'd brought this to camp.”

“It would have been impossible to explain why I had it.”

“That's true. Glenmark felt obligated to keep me in the dark. Maybe if he had …”

“Where is Daniel?” Gypsy asked.

“Busy.” He scowled at Adam. “I assume you'll be leaving soon.”

“I'm here until Glenmark tells me otherwise.”

Gypsy glanced at Adam in surprise as she heard his disquiet. He wanted everyone to believe the danger had ended with Chauncey Lewis's capture, but he did not believe it himself.

“Maybe that's not a bad idea,” Farley answered in the same tight tone. “We may need you around after …” He rocked the gun in his hand, admiring the gleaming steel and the mother of pearl grip. “This is a fine weapon, Lassiter. Have you used it often?”

“I prefer other methods of settling problems.”

Farley rounded the desk. “Ah, yes, as you did with Lewis. You could have shot him, but instead you convinced him to surrender while we wait for the constable.”

“Who should be here soon.”

“I haven't sent for him.”

Gypsy gasped, “You haven't sent for the authorities? What are you waiting for?”

As if on cue, the door opened. Adam pulled Gypsy behind him as the inkslinger was pushed through the door by Peabody and Benson. The crew chief scowled at being kept from the hill to guard a prisoner.

Chauncey Lewis stood silently between his two guards, his arms tied behind his back. He stared at the floor, but his gaze rose to meet Gypsy's. “I'm sorry, Gypsy. I never meant to hurt you. You're—” He looked past her and shouted, “No!”

Adam leaped forward. The gun detonated with an ear-shattering shriek. The jacks shouted and jumped aside. Gypsy screamed as Chauncey rocked back into the door. Blood spurted from the front of his mackinaw shirt. Amazement rippled across his face before he crumpled to the floor to lie in a crimson pool.

Farley shoved Adam aside. Turning to Gypsy, he lifted the gun again. Adam grasped his wrist, but Farley shook him off as he held the gun out to her.

In an emotionless voice, Farley ordered, “Take it, Gypsy.”

Her fingers trembled as she took the weapon, which still belched smoke. Balancing the heavy pistol in her hand, she watched as Farley walked to where the corpse sprawled in front of the door.

“Curse you, Lewis!” Farley's voice was raw with agony. “You made Rose's life torture. I hope you burn for all eternity.”

Gypsy shivered. His words echoed the ones her attacker had spoken.
No, Farley could not be that man.

“Take it away and put it in a pine box.” Farley's mouth twisted out each word. “Even a beast deserves a few words from Reverend Frisch.”

Peabody nodded, glancing at Benson. He grasped one arm of the corpse as Peabody took the other. Neither spoke as they pulled the body out of the office.

Gypsy fought sickness as she stared at the bloodstain left in their wake. When Adam stepped over the scarlet line to close the door, Farley walked back to face her.

“Gypsy,” he said, “with Glenmark gone, I surrender to you.”

“Daniel is gone? Where is he?” she cried.

“On his way back to Lansing.”

“Lansing?” Adam frowned. “Why?”

Farley hunched into himself. “He got news his wife has taken a turn for the better. Apparently she's even taken a step or two. He couldn't wait to see for himself.”

Gypsy whispered, “For the better? Really?”

Adam did not give Farley a chance to answer. “Glensmark left without Gypsy?”

“Why not? She didn't want to go.” Farley regarded him with tear-filled eyes. “And why should she now? Lewis is dead.” He dropped to the bench. “Send for the constable, Gypsy, and I'll give him my full cooperation.” He bowed his head. “Is this what love means? Being willing to do anything for the one you loved?” His voice broke as he whispered, “Even when it's too late?”

She bit her lip. Looking past the shattered man to where Adam stood, she held out the pistol to him. He took it without speaking, but the brush of his fingers against hers teased her to find solace in his arms. Instead, she went to Farley. Kneeling by him, she ignored the pain racing along her arm as she put her hand over his clenched knuckles.

“I wish I could tell her how sorry I am,” he said.

“You have.” She put her fingertips in the middle of his chest. “Calvin, she knew what you felt in your heart. Surely she can hear that even now.”

He straightened. “Strange as it may seem, you're in charge of the camp, Gypsy. Just tell me where you want me to wait for the authorities. Then, when I pay for murdering Lewis, I can tell Rose myself what I feel.”

“I'm not sending for the constable.”

“Gypsy, if you don't, you can be considered an accessory to my crime.” He stood, gesturing to Adam. “Tell her she's being foolish to throw away her life, too.”

Rising, she cradled her aching arm. “There's no crime in defending yourself against a man set on killing you.”

“He didn't—”

“She's right,” interrupted Adam. “We'll all testify that you saved our lives today.”

Farley choked, “That's a lie!”

“That's our opinion,” Gypsy said. “That's what we saw.” Relenting slightly, her voice softened as she put her hand on his arm again. “Calvin, this camp needs you. No one else can oversee the river drive. If you aren't here, someone is sure to be hurt.”

He blinked. “You'd do this for me?”

“You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?”

Slowly he nodded. “Anything for those you love, right?”

She smiled. “Anything, but please not too often, Calvin. I don't think we can withstand your heroics again.”

He went to his desk. Taking a key out of his pocket, he unlocked a drawer. “Gypsy, I owe you—”

“I can't take your money. I didn't find Rose's murderer. He found me.” Her smile wobbled.

“Lassiter?” he asked, looking past her again.

“Glenmark is paying me.” Slipping his arm around Gypsy's shoulders, he grinned. “If I had the money, I'd just spend it on something I probably don't need.”

“Thank you,” the camp manager whispered.

Adam nodded. “I'd like to say we know you'd help us, but I hope it never comes to this again.”

Gypsy tried to recall the camp manager's grateful smile the rest of the day. Her conscience taunted her. Over and over, she reminded herself if Chauncey Lewis had come to trial, the result would have been the same.

When Adam returned to the kitchen, whistling, she knew his discussion with Peabody and Benson had gone well. Neither of them would reveal the truth. Farley was already a hero. She heard the flunkeys talking about a party in his honor.

When the work was done for the day and the stove was filled with wood, Adam came into the bedroom. His smile was as icy as his eyes.

“Go ahead, and say what you've been itching to say all day,” he urged.

She did not pretend not to understand. “Why are you lying to everyone about Chauncey Lewis being the man on the road? You don't believe it!”

“Are you daring him to finish what he's started?”

Incredulity widened her eyes. “So you
do
believe the man who attacked us wasn't Chauncey?”

“Of course.” He sat on the bed and unlaced his boots. With the flaps hanging like peeled bark on a downed tree, he leaned his elbow on the footboard. His compelling gaze held hers. “Honey, I'm not the tallest man in this camp, but Lewis is—was several inches shorter than I am. The man who ambushed you stood eye to eye with me.”

“Then why did you argue with me?”

A slight tug brought her closer, and he settled her on his knees. Slowly he reclined her back onto the mattress. She wanted to enjoy his loving touch, but she could not.

“He's still here,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“And he'll be as eager for revenge against you as to murder me.”

“Yes,” he said again in the same unemotional voice. “That's why I want you to pretend I've convinced you Lewis was your attacker.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you trying to convince him we're growing reckless? Do you think that will draw him out again?”

He lifted her bandaged arm before her face. “If you hadn't gone to check the stove, we wouldn't have known about Lewis. Luck's on our side. Let's take advantage of it.”

She looked out the window to where the moonlight glistened on the snow still clinging to the trees. The perfect, sugar-coated world of winter and the logging camp was evaporating to reveal the rot.

“Do you know who?”

He chuckled coldly as he massaged her tense shoulder. “Honey, I know who he
isn't.
”

“Is he why you're here? Is he the same man you think is after Farley?”

Adam hesitated. So many times he had been tempted to explain why Colonel Glenmark had sent him to the logging camp. The truth might endanger her more. Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “I've told you why I'm here.”

“No, you haven't told me. Daniel told me, not you!”

“What did he tell you?”

“Something you've never told me. The truth.”

“I'm surprised.”

“Why?”

He sighed. The bed creaked as he rested next to her. Leaning her head on his shoulder where it often rested in the afterglow of their passion, he said softly, “I didn't think he'd tell you about how we met.”

“Why?”

“If you know him well, you know he hated his time in the army.”

“I know.”

“Especially his time in Virginia.”

She flinched. “Did you serve there with him? Was it Captain Lassiter?”

“Major Lassiter, actually.” With a short laugh, he arched a brow. “I thought he told you everything.”

“He told me that he fears for Farley's life. Why?”

“Honestly, Gypsy, I don't know why Glenmark is so concerned about Farley.”

“You don't know?” Gypsy sat and regarded him with bafflement.

“I know why I'm here, but I don't know if what I'm looking for is here. Some letters were stolen from Glenmark's office. They had Farley's address. That convinced Glenmark to send me here to find out why Farley may be in trouble. That's not much to go on.”

Folding her arms across her knees, she said, “Answer one thing for me.”

“If I can.”

“Is the man who attacked me the one you're seeking?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “I suspect so.”

“So I'm the bait?”

He looked away. “I'd rather you phrased that another way.”

“But it's the truth?”

“Yes.”

She gasped and stared at him in disbelief.

“Honey, I'm doing everything to make sure you're in no danger. That's why I've arranged to stay here with you every night.”

Shaking her head, she stood. “So now I'm the bait to catch your murderer so you can get what I'm sure is a generous reward from Daniel. I thought you loved me!”

He surged to his feet. When he reached for her, she whirled toward the head of the bed. Gripping the footboard, he growled, “Gypsy, be reasonable!”

She threw the pillow at him. When he ducked, it hit the door with a soft plop. “Get out! I don't have to be reasonable when everything is totally unreasonable. Woo yourself some other victim for your prey.”

Storming toward her, he seized her shoulders. “Do you think he won't kill you if I leave?”

“We won't know until you go, will we?”

He released her. When she sank to the bed and cradled her wounded arm, he snapped, “All right! Have it your way, Gypsy Elliott. Be the luscious victim he hopes you'll be.”

Pain burst within her as he scooped up his boots and walked to the door. “Did you ever really love me, Adam?”

“Does it matter what I say? You wouldn't believe me,” he answered fiercely. “What did Farley say? He'd do anything for love. Maybe it's time you did something for ours. Maybe it's time you believed your heart. But I guess that's impossible. You've gotten so used to distrusting everyone, you can't even trust yourself.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

As soon as Farley announced enough ice had melted on the river, the logs were released from their towering piles to be sent downstream. The jacks packed their turkey sacks. What was left in the wanigan was brought to the cook shack.

Planks were nailed over Gypsy's bedroom door and over the doors leading to the larder and dining room. The kitchen was separated from the other rooms and logs hammered beneath it. Water was frozen in a wide swath to the river. The river hogs worked to send the kitchen, now called the wanigan, down to the river.

Listening to the distant shouts of excitement as the men moved the wanigan, Gypsy stared at the lonely, broken walls of what had been her home. During three long winters, she had lived here. In the past weeks, she had discovered love here.

Now her bedroom was a shattered shell, already tipping awkwardly to its left. Once the ground beneath it softened into mud, the walls would collapse into a pile of jumbled logs.