Mail-Order Groom (16 page)

Or had they? he wondered. Mose
did
appear to have been deliberately lured away from the station, Adam considered.

But that didn't make sense at all. It certainly didn't match
up with what he knew of the Bedell brothers. Most of the time, the brothers were undeviatingly ruthless.

Setting aside those questions for now, Adam glanced up at his new wife. “There's no point arguing about this. If you were a man, you would understand. A man stays to fight. A man protects what's his.” Hoping to lighten the mood, he smiled. “But I'm powerfully glad you're
not
a man, because—”

“Poppycock! All that talk about staying to fight is just pure nonsense,” Savannah disagreed. “I won't hear any more of it.”

“It's the truth.” Mose drained his coffee, then stood.

Adam did the same. “I would lay down my life for you, Savannah. There's nothing you can do to change that.”

“Me, too,” Mose affirmed in his thundering voice. “I reckon I already have, once or twice over the years. Can't be helped.”

Savannah shook her head, stirring the contents of her cast-iron skillet with far more vigor than the food probably required. “What if I don't want you to do that?” she pressed. “Doesn't that matter at all? I don't
want
either one of you to fight for me.” With her wooden-spoon-holding hand on her hip, Savannah raised her chin. “It was bad enough that Mose was in danger at all. Bad enough that my first-ever glimpse of
you
might have been my last, Adam, had you not recovered from your injuries. How in the world could I live with myself, knowing either of you put yourselves in danger for my sake?”

The room turned silent. Skewered by her fierce look, Adam and Mose exchanged shrugs. There was no sense trying to change what couldn't be changed. Men were protectors. That was all. Adam had filled that role with Mariana and with the clients who hired him, too. He prided himself on that. Any man would have.

“If I do my job right, it won't ever come down to that,” he said. “Besides, I'll be fine. I always have been.”

“Except when you get shot in the back and left for dead!” Inexplicably fervent, Savannah stared him down. “I will
not
have either one of you endangering yourselves for me. Do you hear?”

She shook her spoon, giving them both stern looks.

“The way I see it,” Mose said in his usual practical tone, “there's not much you can do to stop us. We're grown men.”

Adam agreed. “We're going to do what we have to do.” He grabbed his hat, then plunked it on his head. He smiled at Savannah. “Try not to get all het up about this. When the time comes, you might like having two heroes fighting for you.”

In response, Savannah only appeared exasperated. She looked away from him, then resumed stirring her cornmeal mush with jerky motions. “I just might have resources you're not aware of, Mr. Corwin. Sometimes I still get my way, by hook or by crook.”

“Hmm.” His smile broadened as he came nearer. “I'll just bet you do, Mrs. Corwin. You'll have to show me sometime.”

He tipped up her chin, then pressed a kiss to her mouth.

At first, Savannah stiffened. But then, as Mose busied himself with tidying up the mess, Savannah kissed Adam back. Glad to have a moment's privacy, he grabbed a handful of her skirts, then hauled her closer while her thick yellow mush bubbled away on the stovetop. He didn't like being at odds with her—especially about something so vital as protecting her.

Fortunately his kiss seemed to succeed where logic had failed. When he and Savannah parted, she appeared to have
forgotten all about their disagreement. Rosy-cheeked, she laughed, then swept her disheveled hair from her eyes.

“Well. I can see how
you
settle arguments!” With her free hand, Savannah gave him a teasing swat. “That's an…interesting approach, but I won't get a lick of work done while you're kissing me. Do you want me to burn all this food?”

“No, ma'am.” Contritely Adam grinned. “I surely don't.”

“Then skedaddle until I'm finished. I've got a lot of work to do, you know.” Her gaze skittered past him, taking in the mess that Mose was diligently working on tidying. She shook her head. “It's going to take a while to clean up in here.”

“Don't worry. I'll help you,” Adam promised.

She burst into peals of laughter. “
You're
going to clean?”

“If that's what it takes.” After all, if he'd nabbed Roy and his brothers when he'd had the chance, they would not have looted the station. “Do you think anything is missing?”

Biting her lip in thought, Savannah looked around. She shrugged, then shook her head again. “It's hard to tell. Whoever did this did a pretty thorough job of wrecking the place.”

He'd have to be more direct. Tipping back his hat brim, Adam gave Savannah a straightforward look. “I'm asking about your nest-egg savings,” he said. “That's probably what they were looking for. Is your money still here?”

Savannah's startled gaze met his. She frowned. “Why would anybody think to look for my savings here at the station?”

That was unexpected. “If not at the station, then where?”

He almost wished the money
had
been at the station.
Adam didn't want Savannah to lose her savings, but he knew he could provide well for her. If the Bedell brothers had gotten what they'd wanted, maybe they would have left Savannah alone for good. As it was, Adam had the unpleasant feeling the gang would be back, one way or the other—unless he confronted them first.

“How do you know about her savings in the first place?” Mose demanded, shouldering his big body nearer. His gaze shifted to Savannah, intent and concerned…and plainly unhappy. He nodded at Adam. “You told him about your savings?”

“Only since our first correspondence!” She stirred her cornmeal mush, then put a lid on the pot. “Remember? I told you that a long time ago.”

Mose cast Adam a suspicious look. Then he relented. He turned to Savannah. “I thought you were going to keep that money a secret, all to yourself. You know…because of Warren.”

This time, it was Savannah's turn to appear uncomfortable. She turned away to collect three speckled enamelware plates from the cupboard, her chin held high. “I changed my mind about that. Now, wasn't there something you boys were going to do, while I finish up in here? I'd say that paddock fence ought to be first to be repaired. Penelope doesn't like to be away from her own stall. She's very particular that way. Her milk will suffer.”

“Who's Warren?” Adam asked.

“A crook,” Mose offered in a biting tone, well before Savannah could answer. “A lowdown, no-good, lying son of a—”

“Warren was a man I was…in business with.” Savannah hurried past Adam with the plates in her hands. Efficiently she set the table. “I made a mistake in trusting him, and I promised myself I wouldn't ever be so gullible again.”

“Humph.” Mose scoffed, drawing Savannah's reproachful gaze.

“What kind of mistake?” Adam asked, feeling mystified and increasingly concerned.
Warren
had never been mentioned in Savannah's letters to Bedell. Now, Adam wondered why. “Gullible how? If he hurt you, I can make sure he pays.”

At that, Savannah smiled, probably thinking he was trying to be a Wild West hero for her sake. “I'm sure that living with his own guilt over deceiving me is recompense enough for what Warren did.”

Not in Adam's view, it wasn't. But if he could find out the man's full name, learn where he lived, make use of the agency's resources to track him down… “What did he do?”

“You don't have to protect me, Adam!”

“What,” Adam repeated patiently, “did he do?”

“He stole my wages and much of my savings before I realized it. He was in a position of authority. I didn't question him at first. We were engaged at the time, so I trusted him.” Her gaze shifted to Adam's, gauging his reaction. “I learned my lesson quickly enough. Shortly after that, I headed west. I promise this has nothing at all to do with you. It's over with now.”

Her guarded expression revealed nothing more. Nor did the glance she cast Mose, appearing to warn him to keep silent.

“Is that enough for you?” Savannah asked, stiff necked and flushed. “Or shall I dredge up a few more embarrassing details?”

Repentantly Adam touched her arm. “I don't want to embarrass you, Savannah,” he said. “I only want to help you.”

For a long moment, she simply gazed at him. The disarray
all around them, the pots of simmering food on the stove, even Mose all faded as Savannah appeared to consider what he'd said.

“If you truly want to help me, then believe me,” she told him. “That's all I need. Whatever you hear from anyone else,
believe me
first. Can you do that?”

Puzzled, Adam nodded. “I promise I will.”

“No.” Her gaze sharpened. “You can't be flip about this. I mean it. I need to be able to count on you, no matter what.”

“You can always count on me,” Adam insisted.

“That's what Warren said,” Mose piped up in a discontented tone. “But all you could count on
him
for was heartache.”

“Hush, Mose,” Savannah said. “That's enough.”

“He broke your heart?” Adam frowned. “Savannah—”

“No. Warren did
not
break my heart.” She wiped her hands on a dishcloth, her expression certain. “To do that, he would have had to have
had
my heart first, and I never gave it to him.”

Mose gave an apologetic murmur. Savannah brushed it off.

“You can't keep walking on eggshells around me, Mose. I'm fine! See? I waited to give my heart to a
good
man.” In obvious demonstration, she went to Adam. She wrapped her arms around his elbow in a defiant gesture. “Because of that, everything is going to be wonderful now.”

Fondly she squeezed him. Guiltily held in her grasp, Adam glanced away. He would make her hopes come true, he swore to himself in that moment. For Savannah's sake, he would make sure everything truly was wonderful. Somehow, he would.

But when his gaze lifted again, colliding with Mose's doubtful one, Adam knew that he may have taken on more
than he could manage. In saving Savannah, he just might have to break her heart…and he would almost certainly have to let her go.

When the time came, would he have the strength to do that?

“Now get on outside, you two.” Savannah released Adam, then shooed him and Mose toward the station's yard. “Get to work, would you? I'll have the food ready soon, but until then…” Brightly she smiled. “This place won't right itself, you know!”

That was something Adam knew all too well. Glancing at Mose, he had the sense that the station helper had realized the same thing. United in a shared mission, they headed outside. For better or worse, the only way to start was to just dig in.

S
itting in the upstairs bedroom of a white clapboard house at the east end of Morrow Creek, Linus Bedell stared moodily at his brother Curtis. For the past hour or more, Curtis had been passed out in a chair beside the bedroom window, snoring fit to beat the band. With his feet propped up on the windowsill and his hat on crooked, his lips flapping with them snores of his, Curtis appeared to be planning to snooze for a while longer, too.

Linus felt fortunate he hadn't been paired with Wyatt for this endeavor—or, for the love of all things holy,
Edward
—but that didn't mean he liked it. He didn't like it one little bit.

He especially didn't like it because of the fact that Curtis was making him do all the work. At least now he was, now that Curtis had done his piece by sweet-talking somebody into letting the two of them “rent” the place for a month or so.

In truth, he and Curtis wouldn't be at that house for more than a few nights. Maybe less, depending on how things
went off. They only needed the place in order to keep a watch on the house across the street, like Roy had ordered them to do. But that would have sounded strange to most folks—and like Curtis had explained to Linus, what the house's owners didn't know wouldn't hurt them. As far as anybody was concerned, Curtis and Linus were just another pair of prospecting brothers, doing their utmost to strike it rich in the territory's mining districts.

'Course, they hadn't bolstered up their story by carrying in any mining pans or pickaxes, the way Linus had thought would be smart when they'd taken up residence. In fact, all they'd brought was a spyglass (filched from them soldiers, like Linus's boots) and a whole caboodle of tequila and mescal. Curtis liked to have a swallow now and then, to keep up his spirits while he was watching the house across the street. Not that he'd done much looking at it so far, Linus reckoned with silent annoyance.

According to Roy, the lady who lived across the street was hostin' a party, and Savannah Reed—The Seductive Sensation—was supposed to be there. Tonight. The very idea made Linus feel all quivery and anxious. Not because he was keen to see her again, though. Because he felt powerfully guilty, even more than usual.

Squirming in his chair, Linus aimed another peek through the spyglass. The distraction was of no use, though. Linus still felt peculiar—and that was sayin' somethin' for a man who'd done some of the things he'd done. He reminded himself that he'd managed to save that big colored man a beatin'—or worse—by lettin' loose that cow and walloping the beast to make it run away. But that didn't help much. Not even the memory of the station's helper comically chasin' that cow could lighten his sprits. Linus knew, deep in his gut, that what he and his brothers had been doin' for a living just weren't right.

Take the other day, for instance. The Bedell brothers had out and out
ransacked
The Seductive Sensation's place. He knew that had been necessary, like Roy had explained, but the way it had happened still bothered him. That station had been a nice little place. They could've searched it without makin' it look like a tornado had struck it. Hell, Wyatt had even shot up some of the lady's pretty things, for no good reason at all 'cept pure orneriness. He'd made Linus take aim at a couple items, too. Linus had fired crooked and missed on purpose, but what they'd done didn't sit well with him. No sir. Not at all.

Linus didn't like to think about how Savannah Reed had felt when she'd come home and found all her things ruined like that.

It was even worse than that, though. Ever since Roy had got hurt, their plans had taken a turn for the nonsensical. That made Linus plenty worried. Bein' foolish was liable to get them all caught or killed, and he'd tried to explain as much to his brothers. He'd told them how tearin' up the telegraph station would only put that hard-nosed detective, Corwin, on the alert all over again. He'd recognize it was them, the Bedells, sure as shootin', Linus had prophesied, and come lookin' for them, same as he'd done for months now. But all Linus's explaining and bad feelings hadn't mattered to anyone. Not one little bit.

In fact, all his brothers had done was laugh at him, like usual, then tell him they'd take care of that detective if he ever showed his do-gooder face around them again—which they didn't think would happen anytime soon, on account of Corwin having filched Roy's new “fiancée” and bein' busy with her.

Linus had disagreed. But bein' laughed at by his brothers wasn't any fun. Neither was bein' made fun of for his sentimental feelings toward The Seductive Sensation. So
he'd shut his mouth instead of arguin' anymore. Not long after that, Wyatt, Edward and Curtis had all but turned that telegraph station inside out and upside down.

The awfulest part was they hadn't found squat inside. No nest-egg money, no jewelry, no valuables of any ken, really. When Roy had found out that news, he'd been fit to spit nails. Just remembering the look on his brother's face made Linus feel sick inside. Roy could be fearsome when he was upset.

As it was, owing to Roy's lingering injuries from his encounter with that detective, Linus and his brothers had gotten away with nothing worse than an irate jawing and a couple of well-placed punches in places Roy could reach easily. Linus counted himself lucky for that. Still, like all Roy's tirades through the years, it wasn't very nice to think about.

To distract himself, Linus leaned his elbow on the windowsill of the upstairs bedroom window, rested his chin in his palm, then looked outside. For the past half hour, nicely dressed Morrow Creek residents had been arriving at the house across the street. The place had been lit and gussied up, and now it looked just like a little home in a doll town. All the lamps glowed brightly inside. Convivial chatter wafted outside.

The view made Linus wish he could be inside there, too. It looked nice and cozy, full of laughter like he didn't usually hear. Not around his brothers. Their laughter was mean. But Linus couldn't join the party. All he and Curtis were supposed to do was watch until The Seductive Sensation showed up. After she did, they were supposed to nab Roy's latest “fiancée” and…

Forcefully Linus quit thinking about that. He'd get Curtis to do that part, he reckoned. That was all there was to it.

Just like he'd cued it to happen, another snore rent the
air. Grumpily Linus glanced at his brother. Then he winced, making a sour face. Drinkin' mescal gave Curtis awful breath. It smelled like an unholy alliance between cow patties and pickles, with a dash of horsehair thrown in. Which reminded Linus of a joke he'd heard at Jack Murphy's saloon, when he'd been waitin' around for Roy to come up with a foolproof new plan for them.

“Hey, Curtis.” He nudged him. His brother only sniffled, then snored louder. Linus grinned. “You smell so bad, the horseflies are fightin' over who gets to land on you first.”

His brother opened one eye. With a sense of dread, Linus realized that Curtis hadn't been sleepin', exactly. He'd only been ignorin' him, just like a coiled-up snake. Until now.

“Shut yer face.” Curtis cuffed him. Hard. “You're supposed to be lookin' out for that yellow-haired woman and her money.”

“Hey! So are you!” Linus grabbed his cheek. It stung something fierce. “How come
I
have to do all the lookin'?”

“'Cause
I'm
going to have to do
all
the rest, and we both know it.” Curtis pulled down his hat. Wearing a look that showed off his vinegary disposition, he crossed his arms, then glanced out the window. In the street below, more people were arriving for the party. “Wake me up when it's time to get to work.”

Eyeing his brother with trepidation, Linus nodded. But a part of him hoped he wouldn't have to wake up Curtis at all tonight. A part of him hoped that Roy was wrong, and The Seductive Sensation wasn't even going to be at that party. Then she would be safe…and Linus wouldn't have to imperil his immortal soul any further by doing something bad. Again.

But the plain fact was, Roy was never wrong, Linus acknowledged with a growing feeling of doom. If he was
right again tonight, that woman and her smart-alecky detective companion were going to have to pay a pretty big price for it.

 

Nearing the residence of Dr. and Mrs. Finney on a fine summer evening, Savannah kept one hand on her hat and the other on the jostling wagon seat. Beside her, Adam sneaked his arm sideways, then cradled her hand in his. In the fading light of the deepening sunset, he smiled at her, his appearance both dapper and reassuring.

“If you two are going to get all spoony like that,” Mose grumbled with a slanting glance from the driver's seat, where he'd managed the wagon for the past few miles, “I suggest you do it someplace more private, where
I
don't have to see it.”

“
You
didn't have to be here at all,” Adam pointed out, not budging his hand. “You're the one who decided a trip to the saloon for a game of Faro would suit you—tonight of all nights.”

Mose jerked up his chin. “Yep. Faro suits me fine.”

“I wish you would come to the party with us, Mose.” Savannah knew the real reason her old friend had come to town, and it wasn't to indulge his nonexistent fondness for gambling. It was to protect her. The raid on her telegraph station had spooked him. Evidently Mose still didn't trust Adam to sufficiently watch over her. “There'll be plenty of room for you. I told you that Mrs. Finney enlarged the gathering from a tea party to a full-on evening reception, didn't I?”

“Yep.” Mose clucked at the horse. “You told me that.”

“Then won't you come with us? Please?”

“I'll be busy.” With a watchful gaze, Mose examined the street ahead of them, then the businesses to the sides. “But I'll come back to collect you whenever you want me to.”

As they drove through town toward the east side, they arranged a mutually agreed-upon time. At that point, Mose would leave the saloon, collect the horse and wagon from Owen Cooper's livery stable, then drive over to the Finneys' place to pick them up. Even Adam seemed satisfied with the plan.

But Savannah still wasn't ready to quit. “If you're not there, you won't be able to see everyone's awed reaction to the wedding gift you gave me, Mose! It's positively lovely.”

Her friend glanced at her, taking in the appreciative way she stroked the antique lace shawl he'd given her. It had belonged to Mother Hawthorne. Somehow Mose had managed to smuggle it all the way across the country without Savannah knowing it. He'd been planning for her new life for a long time, she'd realized when she'd unwrapped Mose's wedding gift. She hoped his faith in her ability to start over would be justified.

“It looks right at home on you, just like I knew it would.” Mose nodded at her lacy shawl, then stared ahead past the horse's twitching ears. “Mama would have liked you, Savannah.”

Touched by his declaration, Savannah smiled. “And Adam, too. Isn't that right, Mose? Mama Hawthorne would have loved Adam.”

Mose cast a dubious glance at Adam. He gave a snort.

“Now, Mose. Don't be churlish,” Savannah coaxed. “Go on.”

Beside her, Adam grinned. “It's all right. I don't mind.”

“You should mind,” Mose said. “Mama was a fine woman and a good judge of character besides.” He angled his neck in a proud pose. “I like to think I take after her in that respect.”

“Well then, Mose,” Savannah said with a nudge. “That means your good opinion will matter doubly to Adam, won't it?”

This time it was Adam's turn to snort.

Mose gave him an incredulous look. “Are you laughing at my mama? Because I assure you, you
will
regret laughing at my mama.”

“No.” Adam sobered. “I'm laughing at the notion of a man who barely converses with anyone, yet feels equipped to fairly judge people.”

“Humph. Listening is more important than talking.”

“Unless nobody will talk to you at all,” Adam said, “because all you do is growl and glower most of the time. Then—”

Adam went on talking, and so did Mose. But all of a sudden, Savannah felt in no mood for their usual manly squabbling. Because in the next instant, the lights and gaiety of the Finney household loomed into view, and her heart seized with panic.

According to Mrs. Finney's latest message, all the most important people in Morrow Creek would be at the reception tonight. Including the mayor. What if the townspeople at large didn't like her? What if they sensed something disreputable about her? What if they simply turned their backs on her?

That had happened before, Savannah remembered with a fearful clutch of her shawl. Although she'd done all she could to make sure that wouldn't happen again, there was no way to be one hundred percent positive. If being properly married, tutored on etiquette, and trussed up in a modest gown and hairstyle weren't enough, she would have nowhere else to turn.

In a very real sense, this reception was the final test of her hopes and dreams. Would she be able to have the life
she wanted, with a good husband by her side and children on the way?

Or would everything be snatched away in a single night?

“Don't worry,” Adam said with a comforting squeeze of her hand. “You'll have a good time tonight. Everyone will love you. I can't see how they could do anything but that.”

Startled by his insight, she glanced up at him. “How did you know I was worried about the party?”

Mose looked Adam's way, too. He raised his eyebrows.

“Because you squeezed my hand in a death grip,” Adam told her, smiling. “For a minute, I thought a grizzly had climbed in the wagon beside me and wanted to ‘get all spoony like that.'”

At Adam's teasing reiteration of his words, Mose scowled.