Rancher Wants a Wife (18 page)

“Are you all right?” Cassandra asked gently.

Elise crossed her arms in those bulky shirtsleeves. “He’s not easy to be around.”

“I—I noticed the way he talks to you.”

“I’m talking about
Jack
. Jack is not easy to be around.”

That was more surprising than anything Elise could’ve said.

She explained. “I’ve tried to make peace with him. I’ve tried to apologize on numerous occasions for upsetting you in the church.... He says he’s fine by it all, but I can see in his eyes he doesn’t forgive me.”

Cassandra frowned, and standing in the stables, looked from Elise through the doors to Jack and his men working hard outside in the moonlight.

“Sorry,” Elise said suddenly. “I hadn’t intended to bring it up.”

Cassandra nodded, feeling stifled from being indoors. She needed fresh air, and indicated they should go outside after the men. A wave of deep concern flowed through her, yet she didn’t quite know how to broach the subject. She spoke carefully.

“When I was in Chicago, I stayed at a boardinghouse for women. You’d be surprised how much you learn about people there. A few of the women had been through some terrible times with men. Some of those men were sometimes...sometimes violent with them.”

Elise gasped and drew to a halt.

“Has Derik—Mr. Thornley—ever been violent with you, Elise? Do you need help?”

She snapped her head up, in shock and surprise. Her gaze widened, and she started panting, as if on the verge of confessing something—something awful. “I’m not really sure who to talk to about it,” she said quietly.

A lump of cold misery settled in Cassandra’s throat. What she’d sensed in Elise this whole time was fear and loneliness. But the woman didn’t need to take abuse from any man. Cassandra motioned that they should keep walking on past the corral, so they wouldn’t be within earshot of the men. Imagining Elise’s problems and what they might be made Cassandra squeamish. In fact, she didn’t know when it had started, but she also had a searing headache.

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Jack in the moonlight, leading the first palomino into the corral. The other four men finished unloading one cartful of straw and went back inside to get another. Jack settled the first horse inside the wooden fence, then turned to search for Cassandra. Waving a hand in the air to acknowledge her, he, too, disappeared inside the stables.

It was precisely at that moment that a fearful premonition slithered through Cassandra like a snake through the grass. She felt and heard and smelled everything around her as though it were happening at half speed. The smell of the grapevines, the shuffle of hooves in the distant stalls, an unexpected pain in her stomach.

She stumbled, trying to call out for help, but unable to in her weakness. It was Elise. She was the evil one, and she was trying to trick Cassandra now. With her derringer so close, yet tucked out of reach inside her purse, Cassandra swung around in a daze, grasping her temple and trying to focus on this monster.

In the semidarkness, Cassandra no longer saw a frightened, timid woman ready to seek help. Instead, Elise looked haughty and menacing. She’d removed a revolver from her beaded handbag and was pointing it straight at Cassandra.

Chapter Twenty

C
assandra’s heart pounded in her chest as if the devil himself were beating it. “No,” she mumbled to the woman holding the Colt revolver. “No, no, no.”

Elise’s eyes were crazed and diabolical. “Do you damn well think you can just stroll in here and take everything I want?” She snapped her head from side to side. “Jack? His ranch? His babies?”

Cassandra tried to focus in the dim moonlight, but spasms of pain clenched her stomach. What was wrong with her? Had she eaten something spoiled? “You’ve been drinking,” she moaned. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Cassandra turned to look for the men who’d just disappeared into the stables, but a stab of pain struck her temple and she nearly fell. She tried to scream, but it came out as a mild whimper.

The sound of someone chuckling echoed in her ears.

“It was you. It was you all along,” Cassandra whispered.

“This way.” The woman grabbed her wrist and yanked so hard Cassandra saw a flash of rainbow colors. She was pulled by her arm, dragged down a very steep slope with grapevines on either side. When they reached the ridge, Elise shoved her aside.

What was wrong with her? Cassandra tried to scream again, but couldn’t. She rasped, “What are you going to do? Shoot me? They’ll hear you...you won’t get away with it.”

“I don’t have to shoot you, you stupid thing. I just have to wait this out.”

Cassandra forced herself to focus. Her eyesight sharpened, although the headache was almost unbearable. She stumbled weakly, but Elise stepped behind her and jabbed her with the gun, forcing her to move along the stony edge. The sharp cliff veered off to their right and disappeared a hundred yards below, somewhere in the darkness.

The woman was leering. Her braided hair had come free of its ties and perspiration slicked her temples. She was obviously crazed, fearful, and therefore capable of anything.

“What do you mean, you have to wait?” Cassandra groaned between spasms. She still had her gun. If only she could reach her purse and yank at the drawstring. “What are you going to do?”

Elise smirked. “I’ve already done it. I just have to wait for it to take effect.”

Cassandra’s mind swirled again in kaleidoscopic colors. She saw jewels and blasts of light and pulsating orbs, and in the haze, she suddenly knew. “You poisoned me....”

Elise let out a snicker of mocking laughter. “A toast to your kindness.”

“Back in town,” Cassandra mumbled in horror. She would not let this female beast win. And so she kept talking, aiming for distraction as she walked two paces ahead and clasped her purse in both hands. “You put something in my punch. Right there, when the messenger was telling you your horses were sick. You put your hand in your pocket and you took out a vial. You’re the one who was watching me all night. I felt the heat of your eyes...”

“You’re an empty-headed, witless bitch. I don’t know what he sees in you when he can have someone more his equal. No one will be able to trace the toxin back to me. They’ll think you died of some mysterious illness. When you’re dead and buried, I’ll spit on your grave.”

Cassandra held fast to the blurry outline of her pistol and discreetly tried to locate one of the drawstrings of her bag. “Did you poison your own animals, too?”

Behind her, Elise stomped harder in the dirt and she called out viciously, “What the hell are you saying? What kind of a person do you think I am? I’d never harm an animal!”

With that, she thrust the barrel of her gun into Cassandra’s spine.

Cassandra groaned at this new stab of pain and stumbled forward, losing her grip on the strings. The bag swung from her wrist. Even in her dazed state, she comprehended that no animals had been sickened on purpose...and was so very grateful for that. Jack’s theory on that point, at least, had been wrong.

Hatred oozed in the woman’s voice. “Before you came along, I was always at Jack’s side, helping him care for any animals in the valley that needed us. Woodrow’s and Finley’s were no exception. Last week I was blissfully happy to spend time with Jack, but you...you always had to come running, like some forlorn filly.”

Cassandra struggled to comprehend. “What did you expect? He married me. Were you hoping we’d divorce?”

She scoffed. “I would have gladly been his mistress.” She smirked. “Now I’ll be his wife.”

“Ugh...” Nausea gripped Cassandra. “And Mr. Dunleigh?”

“Ha!” The lunatic chuckled in mocking tones. “Would you look at that? Maybe you do have a pea brain, after all. But no one’s going to pin anything on me. And you’re about to die.”

“I don’t know how you did it, but Mr. Dunleigh’s poisoning...it was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

More chuckling.

“To think I felt sorry for you with Thornley.” Cassandra regained her footing and reached for her dangling bag again. There. She had it gripped between her fingers.

“Shut up!”

“You and Mr. Thornley, I thought. Such a miserable couple.”

“Shut up!”

“Is he involved with Mr. Dunleigh’s death? What did you argue about at the jeweler’s?”

“I said shut up!”

The woman cuffed the back of her head, and in the darkness, Cassandra lurched forward. Her shoe hit a vine and she stumbled. Her face hit the dirt. She was about to lose everything she’d ever cared for.

Jack,
she thought. He’d be gone, just like Mary and Father had disappeared so suddenly one fiery October day. Young Jack studying so hard in Chicago to be a vet. Young Jack so caring and loving that he dared speak up to tell her Troy wasn’t worthy of her love. Young Jack who ran thousands of miles away from her because...because he loved her, she realized. He’d moved because he loved her, and there was no time left to tell him she felt the same.

* * *

Jack coaxed another sick horse from its stall. “Come on, girl, you’ll feel better outside.” The mare took her time walking down the aisle, so he drew a deep breath and remained patient.

With a quick look at the four men who were pitching straw in the corner, to ensure that Thornley was behaving himself, which he was, Jack turned back to the mare and thought about the evening. He’d been so sure that Dunleigh had been poisoned. But now that Jack observed Thornley, it didn’t seem probable that the man paid that much attention to detail that he could have carried out such an intricate plot. Thornley was a clumsy oaf who gave little thought to his actions. He was aggressive with his fists, not his mind. Although with his volatile temper, Jack believed him capable of anything.

And then the doctor’s assertion that the medicines weren’t tampered with. He’d gone so far as to ingest one himself.

But still...there was one remaining piece of the puzzle. Saturday’s newspaper. Dr. Clarkson hadn’t said that he’d tested the paper for poison, had he? He’d said all three items had tested negative—the tea leaves, the honey and the pitcher.

Jack came to a halt with the horse.
Oh, no
.

Maybe the drops on the newspaper weren’t tea. Maybe
those
were the drops of poison he was looking for all this time.

If someone had sprinkled the paper with toxins...

The delivery boy wore gloves, thus any toxins wouldn’t penetrate his skin, but they may have penetrated Dunleigh’s. Maybe just enough to get into his bloodstream and push his angina into a full-fledge heart attack.

Hellfire
. Who was the newspaper poison meant for?

Dunleigh? Jack? Maybe even Cassandra?

Cassandra! Where was she? He wheeled around, panicked that he couldn’t see her, or Elise.

His heart seemed to rip. “Ben, look after this horse! Crawford, Giller, come with me!”

Elise was smart enough to work out such an intricate plan. And she had the brains to carry it through.

Jack cursed and ran, bolting through the stables into the moonlit field. He didn’t see them. He pivoted. Nobody.

He pulled out his Smith & Wessons. “Cassandra!”

His voice echoed into the night.

“Cassandra!”

He cursed himself for being so stupid. For taking his eyes off her and leading her straight into this damn ambush. He was going to lose her and all the plans they had together. She needed protecting, and he’d failed her. He’d brought her to California and had been too damn stubborn to let her know how much she meant to him. He’d been too weak to be the man he should have been.

Hell!

Crawford and Giller ran up beside him.

So did Thornley, reaching for his guns.

But Jack already had his revolvers trained on Thornley’s brawny figure.

“You’re going to tell me where she is. And if she’s not there, I’m going to blow your face off.”

Thornley’s hands froze in midair. He swallowed hard and his chest heaved. He blinked and Jack could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Drop your guns.”

Thornley tossed them to the dry ground. They thudded.

Jack heard a faint call from the slopes below. Was it Cassandra? An owl hooting? He listened, but heard nothing more.

Desperate, he reached for the back of Thornley’s shirt and hauled him into the vineyards. “Start running,” Jack growled. “And it better be in the right direction.”

* * *

“What did you give me?” Cassandra’s skull felt heavy, as though someone had filled it with liquid and the muscles of her neck weren’t strong enough to hold it up. Her head wobbled, dizziness overcame her and nausea started in. She reached for the grapevines to stabilize her as Elise held the gun to her back. “Was it arsenic? Hemlock?”

“Only something to make you sleep forever.” Elise butted the barrel into her ribs. “Hurry up and die, would you? I’m on a schedule.”

“Sadly for you...I had a full meal. It’s likely slowing the poison.”

“You make me yawn. I bet you bore him, too. How can he stand to look at your ugly face?” Then she got vicious and thrust the barrel so hard that Cassandra felt a pop in her ribs. The pain was excruciating and she doubled over, breathless.

She toppled to the ground. The blackness of the cliff drop-off was a yard away. Petrified, Cassandra yelped and sucked in a mouthful of air.

“Good. That’s it. Take your last breath.”

For a moment, the world stopped spinning. Everything went black from the pain. Then rage overtook her. On the ground, Cassandra clamped a fist around a rock and in one jerky motion rolled over and whipped it at Elise.

Cassandra heard the crack of bones, and the gun fell to the ground with a clunk.

“Ahh!” Elise screamed and grabbed her injured hand. She kicked hard and hit her victim in the hip, but Cassandra grabbed more rocks and threw them, then clawed her way toward the fallen revolver.

She swooped it up and pointed it at Elise just as the woman was about to kick her a second time.

Panting and heaving, Cassandra held on to her sore ribs and rose slowly to her feet. Her derringer was still in her purse, swinging from her wrist, but this gun was better. It had six bullets, while her derringer had only one.

Elise, terrified, held her palms up in the air in a signal of surrender, her injured fingers slightly curled, and pleaded, “Don’t do that, Cassandra. You’re not the type. Let’s talk about this.”

“You’d like...to keep me talking, wouldn’t you?” she moaned. “Just long enough for the poison to set in, then you’d be free. Is that right?”

Elise blinked and pursed her lips in fear.

“I said is that right?” Cassandra raised her voice and tried to shout, but couldn’t manage it. So to alert Jack and the others as to where she was—if they were looking for her—she held the gun in the air and pulled the trigger. The bang echoed along the ridge and made Elise jump. Cassandra quickly aimed the pistol at the other woman again.

Elise nodded softly in answer to her question. “Yes, yes, that’s right.”

“Now I’m going to ask again. What did you give me?”

“Horse medicine. A muscle relaxant.”

Cassandra stumbled to one knee. Elise jumped for the revolver, kicked it from her hand, and as it landed somewhere beneath the shadow of the grapevines, well out of view and reach, the hag laughed.

When she turned back to gloat, Cassandra had already dug into her purse and pulled out her derringer. Still on one knee, she cocked the trigger.

The other woman gasped as she looked down the barrel.

“One bullet is all I need.”

In the darkness around them, Jack’s voice rang out. “Cassandra!”

On her knees, but still keeping the other woman at bay with her pointed pistol, Cassandra looked up, blurry-eyed. She saw shapes and figures. Jack was running toward her, one of his men beside him, but then...

Then Thornley ran at the other bodyguard and pulled a weapon from the man’s holster.

Thornley shot at Jack, who rolled over, hit in the lower leg.

Cassandra screamed, “No...!” Colorful lights whirled before her eyes.

Jack shot back at Thornley and struck him in the arm. Their two bodyguards, Crawford and Giller, jumped on the man and pinned him to the ground.

Limping, Jack approached the women. So there they were, staring at each other. Jack and Elise Beacon, both standing, and Cassandra swaying on her knees with her gun still pointed.

“Jack,” Cassandra mumbled. “You’ve been hit.”

“I’m all right.” He held his weapon straight at Elise. “I know you planted poison on that paper.”

The woman, quiet until now, sobbed at his words.

Cassandra tried to make sense of it. It wasn’t paper, it was the punch.... Didn’t he know?

“Run away with me, Jack,” Elise pleaded. “We could conquer the world together.”

He was heaving and out of breath, clearly outraged. “I’m taking you in.”

“I just want you to love me, Jack,” she murmured in a frail voice. “Can’t you please do that?”

“I’m taking you in!”

“No,” she sobbed, stepping backward, closer to the ridge.

“Don’t do that, Elise, there’s a cliff behind you. Don’t do that.” He stepped back to show her he was giving her a wide berth, and that she could step forward.

“Tell me you won’t take me in.”