Mail-Order Groom (19 page)

“Roy ain't here,” Mariana pointed out in a dismissive tone. “He won't be back from the saloon for a while yet. You know he can't be rushed when he's busy. 'Sides, don't you think makin' sure
she
cooperates is worth a little plannin' ahead?”

Mariana jabbed her chin derisively toward Savannah. Linus, compelled by her gesture, studied Savannah, too. He nodded.

“Well… I would like to make things go smooth, I guess.”

“All right then.” Mariana gave a brisk nod, then returned her attention to Savannah. “Like I was sayin', Roy took notice of you and decided to try a little sweet talkin' on you. And you… Well, you was ripe for the pickin', I guess. Since you promised to marry him, I reckon it worked, didn't it?”

Baffled, Savannah shook her head. Mariana's depiction of things
did
fairly describe her long-distance relationship with Adam, but as for the rest… “I don't even know anyone called Roy,” she said. “This must be some kind of mistake.”

Maybe they would let her go, she dared to hope. Maybe—

“It ain't a mistake.” Mariana shook her head, then patted her pocket. “These letters I've got prove it. Written in your own hand, just like you said.” She sighed again, appearing beleaguered. “Don't you know no better than to believe a man who promises you the moon? They don't never mean it, not ever.”

Linus cast Mariana a questioning look.

“Not when they're working a scheme, especially,” Mariana hastened to add. “The truth is, Roy cares about me, Mrs. Corwin, not you. All he wants from you is that nest-egg money you kept on bragging about in your letters. So my advice to you is this: When Roy and the boys come back, don't waste no time pretendin' not to have that money. You give it over. No matter what.”

Her savings?
They wanted her savings?
That
was what this was about? Savannah wondered. But she'd been so discreet about her nest-egg money…except when it came to Adam and Mose.

“Yep.” At that, Linus gave a vigorous nod. “You don't want to make Roy irate. He ain't a nice man when he's irate.”

“Just cooperate.” Mariana seemed annoyed at Linus's nasty depiction of “her man.”

“Just do like Roy says, keep your mouth shut otherwise, and maybe you'll make it out of here alive.”

But her warning was lost on Savannah. Because just then, she realized something unexpected. “
You're
the ones who wrecked my station!” She peered at Mariana and Linus in newfound enlightenment. “You
were
looking for my money. Adam was right.”

“Well, I dunno about that, but
Roy
is usually right about things.” Linus shifted, his expression a peculiar amalgamation of pride and discomfort. “Roy told us that money had to be there at the station someplace. He told us how you don't trust no banks with your money, on account of not being gullible.”

Astonished, Savannah gaped at him.
I'm leery of entrusting my savings to any bank or institution,
she'd written at least once.
I've become cautious of late, on account of recent events
.

She'd meant her entanglement with Warren. She'd wanted to avoid giving another man easy access to her money. Yet Savannah had felt compelled to admit having it. She'd wanted, as much as possible, to conduct her long-distance friendship honestly. She'd also wanted to make it clear that she was independent—that she wouldn't be relying on her new husband to pay her way.

Remembering those words she'd written, Savannah glanced at the pocket of Mariana's workmanlike dress. How could the woman have Savannah's letters, she wondered, when she'd seen those same letters in Adam's possession on the day he'd arrived?

“Did you snatch Adam from the party, too?” Without thinking, she bounded to her feet to search. “Where are you keeping him?”

Linus blinked. “The detective? We don't have
him
.”

“Detective?” Savannah frowned. These two definitely had some wrongheaded ideas about things. “What detective? Adam is my husband. We were together tonight at the Finneys' party.”

Frustrated and fearful, she rounded the room. Mariana and Linus only sat there for a moment, watching her in bafflement.

“Your husband was supposed to be
Roy
,” Linus said in a hard-thinking tone. “Leastwise, that was the plan for this town. But if you say your husband is named
Adam
, then I reckon—”

“She married the detective. Her name is Corwin now. She just said so, remember?” Mariana snapped. “For heaven's sake, Linus. Try to keep up, why don't you?”

Savannah wasn't sure how he could. She certainly couldn't.

“Adam,” she specified, edging closer to the door, “is a telegraph operator from Baltimore. I'm telling you, you have the wrong woman. This is all some sort of terrible mistake.”

Suddenly Linus laughed. “I get it!” He slapped his knee in cheerful understanding. “She thinks Corwin is
Roy
, on account of Roy stealin' Corwin's name for this scheme.” He nudged Mariana. “That sure did tickle Roy, when he thought up that idea. He knew that would rankle that detective. I bet it did, too.”

Upon hearing this puzzling explanation, Mariana only shrugged. She looked at Savannah. “You mean Corwin didn't tell you nothin' about
any
of this? Not even after you got hitched?”

Struck by a powerful sense that she was missing something important, Savannah paused. It was possible that she could sneak away—just open the door and run from
wherever she found herself standing—but the insightful expressions on the faces of her captors made her feet stick in place. “What
should
he have told me about?” she asked.

 

As Adam approached the Finneys' house, with its lights and music and laughter spilling onto the small yard outside, he closed his fingers on the two messages in his pocket. Because of Mariana's quick thinking, he knew where to find the Bedells.

Sleep tight,
she'd written.
Sleep tight
.

Those weren't words that a no-nonsense female detective like Mariana used often. Or ever. His partner was sensible to a fault, never one to waste words on niceties. Adam had overlooked that phrase at first glance, but now—given what he knew about the local lawmen's reluctance to get involved in bringing in the Bedell brothers—he saw his partner's words through new eyes.

Sleep tight,
Mariana had told him…because at some point, Adam reasoned, the Bedells had gotten themselves holed up in a local hotel or boardinghouse, and Mariana had seen them do it.

She was still on the case. Her message
had
been a clue—probably left as a last-ditch effort, because she'd likely met with the same indifference he had from Sheriff Caffey and his deputy. Now all Adam had to do, he told himself as he strode onward, was make sure Savannah was safely in Mose's care, then search Morrow Creek for Roy Bedell and his brothers.

As though he'd summoned the big man himself, Adam glimpsed Mose alighting from the telegraph station's wagon. Wearing his coat and a concerned expression, Mose hurried to the Finneys' house as fast as if his shoes had been on fire.
He moved easily among the partygoers who'd wandered outside for a spell.

“Mose!” Adam waved. “Wait.”

Mose didn't so much as slow down. Adam ran after him.

He caught up a few steps shy of the Finneys' front porch, then reached out to touch the station helper's arm. “Mose, I need you to stay with Savannah. I've got to do something—”

“Corwin.” Turning, Mose narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing out here? You're
already
supposed to be with Savannah.”

“I had business to take care of. All you need to know is—”

“I
knew
I should have watched her myself!” Looking besieged, Mose jerked out of Adam's grasp. The regret in his face was evident. “Get out of my way.”

Surprised, Adam stepped back. Then he followed Mose.

They entered the house, both of them shouldering aside gregarious Morrow Creek residents who tried to engage them in conversation. They passed the parlor, the sitting room… Their mutual haste would have been comical, had their cause not been so urgent. Craning his neck to search for Savannah, Adam felt increasingly concerned as they passed more partygoers with no sign of her. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Savannah!”

Mose did the same, his voice thundering through the house.

Grim-faced and tense, Adam doubled back. Maybe he'd missed her during his first pass. Maybe she was outside. Maybe…

Swearing, Adam cut off those hopeful thoughts. All that
was left to do was find her. Just find her, hold her and love her.

“Mr. Corwin?” came a tentative female voice.

Someone touched him with a light hand. He turned to see Molly Copeland, the town baker, standing there beside her sister, Sarah, the schoolteacher. Worriedly Molly twisted her hands, heedless of the partygoers drifting toward them.

“Have you seen Savannah?” Molly asked. “I heard you calling for her. You see, she left to get a breath of fresh air quite a while ago, and we're wondering… Is everything all right?”

She bit her lip, gazing earnestly up at him. Behind her, the crowd of partygoers seemed to grow. Hazily Adam recognized more Morrow Creek residents—people he had met tonight and then inadvertently, foolishly, left in charge of Savannah's safety.

She left to get a breath of fresh air quite a while ago…

“I organized a group to search the yard and its environs,” Grace Murphy offered in a brisk tone, “but there was no sign of Savannah anywhere. Might she have gone home alone? I was just about to appoint someone to check at the telegraph station.”

Looking down into Grace's competent, assured face, Adam felt awash in regret. Surely now his expression matched Mose's. He should have
never
left the party to pursue the Bedells. There must have been another way. Another
honest
way, like explaining to Savannah who he was and why he had to find the gang. It would have cost him her trust…but it might have saved her life.

“No,” Adam said. “She wouldn't have gone home alone.”

She left to get a breath of fresh air quite a while ago
…

Molly frowned. “Then where could she be? It doesn't seem like her to simply vanish this way. We honestly
didn't try to run her off, Mr. Corwin. We all liked her very much—”

“Don't be a ninny, Molly!” Sarah elbowed her way forward. “Anyone can see with a single look at Mr. Corwin's face that something is very wrong here. What is it? Please tell us.”

“Yes,” Grace urged. “Undoubtedly, we can help.”

Adam gazed down at their trusting faces and could scarcely think at all. Choked by fear, he swallowed hard. As a detective, he was unshakably brave. As a man who loved his new wife, he was…unconscionably afraid. He clenched his fists.

She left to get a breath of fresh air quite a while ago
…

“No one can help,” Adam said. “I have to leave.”

He turned, but Mose blocked his path.

“I'm going with you,” Mose said. “They're down at the saloon. That's why I'm here early. I was worried about Savannah being in town near them. If we hurry, we might be able to—”

None of what he was saying made sense. Fraught with worry, Adam gave an impatient wave. Everyone stepped back except Mose.

“Get out of my way, Mose. I have to start searching.”

Boardinghouses, hotels… Morrow Creek was small, but there had to be many of those places in town. Many to search, and many to be disappointed at. If Adam didn't hurry, he would be too late for certain. But still Mose stood in his way, arms crossed.

“I'm coming with you,” the big man said again. “I'm telling you, they're at the saloon.” He gestured. “I can show you.”

Frustrated, Adam frowned. “
Who
is at the saloon?”

“The Bedell brothers. Ornery sons of bitches, and mean, besides. They were cheating at cards, not that I cared—”

With a sense of surreality, Adam stared at him. “You know who the Bedells are? How do you know who the Bedells are?”

Mose made a disgusted face. “They're a bunch of loud-mouthed cusses. People two territories over know who they are by now.”

That was probably true, Adam realized ruefully. And yet—

“Bedells? Down at
my
saloon?” Jack Murphy moved forward, all Irish belligerence and Western toughness combined. He exchanged a glance with his wife, Grace. “I won't have it.”

“Don't see how you can stop it, Murphy.” The blacksmith, Daniel McCabe, moved forward, too. He was a huge man, but he seemed the most easygoing of everyone. He shrugged. “Bad men like to frequent saloons. For now, I say we find Savannah. The womenfolk are all up in arms. If we can put them at ease—”

“Finding Savannah
will
put us at ease!” Sarah exclaimed. She gave her husband a determined look. “These Bedell people must be threatening her, somehow. I don't know who they are, but—”

“I wish I could say the same.” The newspaper editor, eastern born-and-bred Thomas Walsh, spoke up. Behind his spectacles, his eyes appeared somber, his expression serious. “I know who the Bedell boys are, and I wish I could forget.”

By the time he'd given everyone a hasty dossier of the Bedell brothers' criminal exploits, all the partygoers were agog—including Adam. He'd had no notion how well informed the residents of a town like Morrow Creek could be. Or how eager to help. But that didn't change the fact that Savannah might, even now, be at the mercy of Roy Bedell. He had to go get her.