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Authors: Lauri Robinson

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BOOK: Boot Hill Bride
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wipe her hands.

"You suppose?"

She nodded. "I suppose." A teasing glint settled in her

eyes. "And I love you."

His heart all but burst right out of his chest. They

expressed their feelings for each other all the time, but for

some reason, at this moment, standing in the kitchen with

employees bustling about, and with a hotel full of more

guests than he could count, the admission meant more to him

than life itself.

"And I love you, so very, very much," he said, lowering his

face to capture her lips in a deep and loving kiss. They were

both trembling when they separated. He had to lean against

the table to keep his balance and felt the quakes of her

shoulders as she pressed against him.

"It's turned out to be quite a success. Tonight," he said,

needing a moment to gain his composure.

"Yes, it has," she agreed. "Did you have any doubts?"

"No," he said, "No doubts and no regrets."

She lifted her face, met his gaze. "No regrets," she

repeated. "Never."

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His legs once again promised to support his body, so he

took her hand. "Come on, I don't believe you met the

governors yet."

She paused.

He ran a finger down the side of her face. She was so

beautiful. The slightest glance had the ability to steal his

breath away. And she was his, would be forever.

"No doubts," he said, "And no regrets."

She took a deep breath and thrust her elegantly exposed

shoulders back just a touch.

"Yes, I think I would like to meet the governors."

Hours later, after the food had been cleared away and men

twirled women across the dance floor, Howard once again

found himself searching for his wife. Her father still hadn't

appeared, and the knowledge left him as edgy as a coiled

rattler. He made the rounds, the kitchen, the foyer, the dining

room—now cleared into a dance floor, and the wide veranda

running along the front of the hotel outdoors. There hadn't

been even a hint of her anywhere, so he turned around, back-

tracking his path.

In the kitchen, now cleared of workers, who upon leaving

the area immaculate had either gone home, joined the party,

or were serving drinks from the portable bar set up on the

front stoop, he ran into Jessie.

"Have you seen Randi?"

"No, I haven't. But I'm on my way up to check on the

children. I'll let you know if she's upstairs."

Two of the Timmer girls had been hired to watch the

children in the apartment above, giving Jessie and Lila the

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freedom to join the party. Howard figured between the two

women and his brothers, the children had most likely been

checked on every ten minutes throughout the night.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but then changed his

mind. More than likely, Randi had been up to peek in on the

children more than a few times as well. The tight, nagging

feeling of unease tickling his shoulders had become overly

strong, and he knew it wouldn't ease until he found her.

"I think I'll just come up with you. See if she's there

myself."

Jessie smiled, giving him a look of understanding and

turned to climb the stairs ahead of him. She started gushing,

going on about the festivities, the food, the Cowboy Band,

and a million other tiny details. He didn't need to respond. For

one, Jessie didn't expect him too, had known him long

enough to know he wasn't much for small talk, and for two,

his mind was too busy all on its own.

The evening really had gone on without a hitch, besides

showcasing the upscale accommodations their hotel offered to

travelers and locals alike, his brothers, namely Kid and

Skeeter, had been very efficient in quelling the rumors of the

Quinter's being members of the Populist Party. Not only was

the crowd enamored with The Majestic, the family's

reputation was once again held in high regard. The knowledge

was a relief to say the least, but still he couldn't help but

wonder where Fulton was and when he'd show up.

Part of him really hoped it wouldn't be tonight, wouldn't

put a damper on the success of the event. The other part of

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him wanted the man to walk through the door so he could

confront him and have the deed over.

Danny J had gathered evidence on Fulton. Not only had

the man rode with Quantrill after the war, but he'd been part

of several criminal acts since then. Danny had the proof to

have the man arrested, and Sheriff Sughrue was in-house,

ready to march Fulton straight into the new jail built on the

other end of town. Howard wanted it done and over with.

Wanted the man sent away where he'd never bother Randi

again, so they could set about living their lives, maybe even

start a family. She was well suited for motherhood, the way

she hovered over his nieces and nephews made the fact as

clear as the Kansas summer sky.

Jessie had stopped talking. He glanced down, caught the

expectant look on her face.

"The door's locked," she said.

He frowned and stuck a hand in his hip pocket to retrieve a

cluster of keys.

"Has it been all night?"

"No. It wasn't locked when I was up here half an hour

ago."

He inserted the skeleton key, and the nagging weight on

his shoulders turned into jolts of apprehension. His mind,

trying to work out who would have locked the door and why,

flipped to where the children were as soon as the door swung

open to reveal an empty sitting room.

Jessie hurried to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

"The girls must have put them to bed."

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He followed, for some reason not quite believing that was

true.

On the second floor, Randi, having just aided the governor

of Colorado's wife—who'd clearly sampled too many glasses

of wine—into their guest room, was just pulling the door

closed when a scream vibrated from above. She froze in her

steps for a moment as quivers raced her loins. A keen sense

told her it was Jessie screaming. Goosebumps leaped to life

on her skin.

She hoisted her skirt and ran along the hall. Guests,

stopping to gape both at her and the direction from which the

sound came, blocked her path every now and again.

"Excuse me, excuse me," she repeated over and over,

making her way to the door leading to her and Howard's

accommodations.

By the time she arrived, a crowd was forming with every

Quinter family member racing into her sitting room from both

doors. She ran to the far side, where Howard stood in front of

the tall windows. Noise filled the air, everyone talking at

once.

Howard let out a shrill whistle as she arrived at his side.

When the noise settled a touch, he said, "Someone locked the

children in a closet upstairs."

"What the hell?" one of the boys shouted.

"Who?" someone else wanted to know.

"Why?" Ma shouted above the rest.

"We don't know who or why," he answered, stopping the

stream of questions. "But whoever it was took Winifred."

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Randi's heart stopped dead in her chest, and she grabbed

his arm.

"It only happened a few minutes ago, so whoever it was is

still here," he continued. "Mary Timmer said it was a woman

in a black dress."

A bitter blast of the coldest chills she'd ever experienced

raced over her. Randi turned to Howard, praying he nor

anyone else, could possibly imagine it had been her. There

was no questioning in his gaze, no blame, but they were full.

She'd never seen vengeance so clearly before.

Twisting, unable to view something so hard and dark

coming from Howard, her gaze went out the window to where

the moon cast a mellow beam upon the water fountain.

Movement near the water made her squint and take a second

look. A shadowy figure, racing across the yard stumbled, fell,

and something landed in the pond.

"Winifred," she screamed.

Howard's arm grasped her shoulder. She twisted, trying to

break his hold.

"She's in the pond! A woman just tripped and the baby fell

in the pond!" she yelled.

The room exploded with movement. Randi, balling her

skirt with both hands, was amongst the mass racing for the

stairs. Somehow they all managed to descend the stairs, run

through the kitchen and into the back yard without tripping

over each other.

Kid had already arrived at the pond and stood in the

center, a dripping mass of blankets in his arms. Randi

stopped dead in her tracks. The look of horror on Kid's face,

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the unnaturally still bundle he held, and Jessie's pain-filled

scream splitting the air, slapped her all at once.

A second later, as if she had wings instead of feet, Lila flew

past. She landed in the pool and wrenched Winifred's little

body from Kid. He moved to take back his daughter, but

Skeeter, having jumped in right behind Lila, grabbed him.

"No," was all he said.

Her blood pounded like drums in her ears as Randi

watched Lila rip the blankets away. They floated to the water

and Lila covered the baby's mouth with her own. Winifred's

limp little arms and legs hung from her body, but Lila kept

breathing for the infant, and every few seconds she'd press

on the baby's miniscule chest.

Randi had to blink. Twice. And then cover her gasping

mouth with a trembling hand, wondering if she'd seen

correctly.

She had. Winifred's arms and legs had moved. Within

seconds the baby started coughing, and the next thing Randi

knew, Lila was handing a crying Winifred to a sobbing Jessie.

The thrill, the exhilaration, the blessing bestowed upon

them, would live in their hearts forever, but at that moment,

the elation was short lived, for someone, Randi wasn't sure

who, yelled, "Hog, the hotel's on fire!"

Flames, blazing orange and growing, licked at the back

porch. The men scrambled, and Randi, knowing she'd left a

bucket near the windmill, ran as well. She was filling it at the

pond when Howard, a bucket in his other hand, grabbed her

arm.

"Get to Ma's tent," he shouted.

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"No!" She wrenched out of his hold and hoisted her bucket

out of the water.

He snatched away her bucket, handed it and his to a man

beside him, and then bent to fill another.

"Yes," he shouted.

Empty handed, she stood, watching. Men had formed a

long line, and buckets, one after the other, passed between

their hands. Full ones going one way, empty the other.

Howard was refilling them as fast as they were handed to

him.

"Please, Randi, go to Ma's tent with the rest of the

women."

Randi didn't answer. She wanted to tell him it was her

hotel, too, it wasn't just his dream, his livelihood, it was

theirs, and she needed to help. But couldn't because she was

pushed out of the way. A second line of men, dressed in their

fancy party clothes, had formed another line right where

she'd been standing.

It was Aunt Corrine, saying, "Come on, Randi, get out of

the way so the men can work," and tugging on her arm that

made her move farther away from the pond.

Her gaze went to the porch, where flames ate at the wood

pillars with ferocity. Standing there, watching her dreams go

up in smoke, something landed in her stomach with enough

gusto to make her pitch forward. Her hands clutched the

area. Nothing had struck her on the outside, it was on the

inside. A strong wrenching that told her there was nothing

she could do.

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Still clutching her waist and fighting to hold in a scream

building in her throat, she twisted and ran for the tents. Her

arrival garnered hugs from many, even Jessie seeing to little

Winifred's needs, slowed to embrace Randi before ducking

into Ma's tent. She did experience a sigh of relief and joy,

when she noted all of the other Quinter children were

accounted for. Ma quickly explained she, Willamina, and Eva

had carried Kendra, Charles, and Joel out to the pond during

the mad rush to rescue Winifred.

Ma, with a mass of gratitude and tears, thanked Randi

profusely for saving her precious granddaughter.

She shook her head. "It wasn't me. It was Lila." Turning to

her red-headed sister-in-law, Randi asked, "How did you

know what to do?"

Lila, with Charles on one hip, kissed his curly-topped head.

"I learned it in my other life."

Randi probably should have commented, but she didn't.

Not only was there the fact she had no idea what Lila meant,

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