Scarlet Lady (5 page)

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Authors: Sandra Chastain

BOOK: Scarlet Lady
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“Damn!” She’d managed to stand on the toilet and
crawl out through the open window. She hadn’t even said good-bye.

But she had. Scrawled on the mirror in lipstick as red as the dress she’d worn were the words
SORRY
,
YOU LOSE
! Below the message was the imprint of her lips and a red feather held on by a sliver of water-softened soap.

Montana whirled around and headed back to the table. He hadn’t noticed before, but all the money was gone. Finally, he turned over her last card.

The queen of hearts.

She’d won his money and his boat and he didn’t even know her name. Why had she run?

It was then that he felt the tiny, almost imperceptible nick in the corner of the card.

Card by card, he examined the rest, and swore. If he’d touched the cards he’d have known. But she’d been the dealer. If he’d touched the cards, he would have known that the deck was marked.

His lady in red had cheated.

THREE

Thanks to the river’s swift current brought on by the storm, Katie was going to make it to shore. With the boat whistle announcing the arrival of the
Scarlet Lady
, she increased her strokes and pushed the last few feet to the pier. Thank God for competitive swimming.

Watching with an incredulous stare from the dock was Cat, who’d helped her orchestrate the evening.

“So,” Cat called out, “why the midnight swim? Did he throw you overboard?”

Katie took hold of the centuries-old iron ladder to the wharf and leaned against it to catch her breath. “No, I jumped before he could.”

“Does that mean you lost?”

“No, I didn’t lose,” Katie answered, grabbing the bulging evening purse, still swinging from her neck, as if it were a life vest and she were going down for the third time. “Oh, Cat. I won. I actually won.”

“I don’t understand.” Cat leaned down and took Katie’s hand, pulling her up the last rung of the ladder.

“I won big,” Katie repeated, her lips beginning to chatter, not from cold, but from delayed shock. She swept her hair from her eyes, captured the last of the feathers in her fingers, and flung them to the dock. “Well, it’s not enough to pay off everything, but it’s a start.”

Cat looked down at Katie’s feet and shook her head. “I can understand why you lost the shoes, but the reason for your socks escapes me entirely.”

Katie looked down at her feet, still encased in Montana’s black socks. “I don’t think I want to explain.”

“I can believe that.” Cat removed the fringed shawl she’d tied around her waist as a skirt and placed it around Katie’s shoulders. “What I’m waiting to hear is why you jumped overboard and ruined my dress.”

Another whistle reminded Katie that the riverboat—and the man who’d kissed her—was about to dock, not two hundred yards from where she and Cat stood.

“The car, Cat. Where’s the car?”

“Right where we left it, in the parking area behind the restaurant. Though if you’re lucky, someone stole it.”

Katie turned to check the river. The
Scarlet Lady
came alongside the pier and snuggled into her berth with a thud. Katie let out the breath she’d been holding and shivered violently. “If it’s gone, I’m dead.”

Thank goodness, the riverboat had been forced to slow down to maneuver itself into its proper mooring. Even so, it had caught up with her. Now anybody looking
from its decks couldn’t miss a waterlogged brunette in a skirt that was way beyond short. If she didn’t attract attention, the red-haired Cat, who now wore only her black spandex suit, wouldn’t be missed.

“So?” Cat prompted. “Tell me everything.”

“I think I’d better tell you later.”

“Hey! You, my lady in red!” The voice was angry. The voice was familiar and it was too close.

Katie glanced up to the lacy-railed private deck on the third level, just outside Montana’s cabin. In one moment he was standing there; in the next he saw her, whirled, and disappeared inside.

“Cat, hurry!” Katie ran down the dock, cut through the now empty tourist shopping area, and headed for the car they’d parked there three hours ago. If she hadn’t already lost her shoes, she would have now in her haste to get away.

She knew Montana had to get down to the dock level, wait for the doors to be opened, and fight his way through the crowd. Then he’d have to take the escalator down to the ground level and find her. Maybe, just maybe, she’d escape. If not, she didn’t want to think what might happen.

One night of gambling had taught her she was no professional cardplayer. She’d never lacked for courage, unless she was dealing with her brother—or the aftermath of one of his problems. Then, as always, she turned into a first-class wimp—except for tonight, when she’d shored up her courage, let Cat remake her into some femme fatale, and come to the casino to gamble. And she’d pulled it off, until the last hand. A real pro
would have faced down Montana and claimed his boat. A real pro wouldn’t have let one kiss turn her into a woman running for her life. But she wasn’t a real pro, and after that kiss she wasn’t about to take a chance on another.

If the look on Montana’s face staring down at her from the upper deck didn’t tell her she’d been wise to leave when she did, the thudding of her heart was the clincher.

“You drive, Cat. I’ll wreck us for sure.”

Moments later Katie realized how really rattled she was. Cat was the worst driver in the history of Louisiana. She only knew two speeds, faster than a speeding bullet and dead stop.
Dead
. That might be the word of choice, Katie decided as her daredevil friend took the corners on two wheels, leaving the river and the
Scarlet Lady
behind in the wake of their dramatic exit.

“Slow down, Cat!” she yelled. “We got away.”

A few blocks later Cat pulled the car over, took her foot off the gas, and looked at Katie. “All right, girlfriend. Now tell me, who did we get away from?”

“Didn’t you see him?”

“You mean the devil in the black frock coat who was yelling at you? Who was he?”

“Rhett Butler Montana.”

Cat let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. Montana. Rhett Butler Montana. Who was his mother, a Southern belle or a cowgirl wannabe?”

“I don’t know. But she named him right. He’s … well, he’s certainly straight off a western-movie set.”

“Am I to understand he’s the bad guy and we just got out of Dodge?”

“Pretty much.”

Cat gave her a long, serious look. “One question, Miss Kitty, did you cheat?”

Katie’s eyes widened. “Me? Cheat? Have you ever, in your entire life, known me to cheat?”

“Silly me. Of course not, Miss Go-by-the-Rules Carithers,” Cat admitted. “But you’ve got a blind spot a mile wide as far as your brother Carson is concerned, and I’m never positive you won’t do something really dumb to rescue him.”

“I’m not rescuing him this time, Cat. I’m saving Carithers’ Chance. The plantation has been in my family since before the War Between the States.”

“Well, I do declare. ’Course you are. What I want to know is what your low-down, no-good brother is doing to help? The one who put up his share of the plantation to cover his gambling debts.”

Katie took a deep breath. “I … I’m not quite sure. When I left he said he was going to get in touch with a friend, something about one last possibility of making things right. He really regrets his gambling, Cat. He just got desperate.”

Cat took Katie’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Katie. I don’t mean to make light of your problem, but Carson just makes me so mad. You’re the one with the steel-trap mind. You’re the one who should have been running Carithers Shipping, not him. If your
daddy
hadn’t been a bigger idiot than Carson, he wouldn’t have been so caught up in tradition. He should have left
the company to the kid with the brains instead of his only son.”

“He wasn’t an idiot, Cat. He was brought up to believe in tradition and family—the Carithers’s curse.”

“And you’re going to keep right on with the tradition, wasting what money you just won on that leaky ghost bucket of a house you live in instead of using it to buy yourself a future.”

Katie nodded. “Carithers’ Chance
is
my future.”

“I’d say it’s more like your past.”

“Maybe, but I can’t give it up without a fight. I didn’t do anything to stop Carson before he’d lost the business, but I’m determined to save our home. Even if I have to take on the Old West to do it. Let’s go home, Cat. I want to count my winnings and plan my next move.”

“You mean you’re going to do this again?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how much money I have.”

Cat put the car in gear and gunned the engine. The ancient sedan shuddered, then leaped forward again, eating up chunks of the dark River Road.

“Take it easy,” Katie admonished. “This car isn’t used to being abused.”

“It’s a good thing a real posse isn’t after us. I told you we should have taken my Mustang.”

“I didn’t want to stand out,” Katie said wearily. Now that they’d gotten away, the enormity of what she’d done came crashing down on her. She’d actually gone on board the
Scarlet Lady
and taken on the man she’d
come to think of as her archenemy, the man known as Montana.

She’d gambled.

And she’d won—bigger than she’d dreamed of winning.

No, not her, the lady in red she’d become for one night. But now she’d left her behind, and Katie Carithers, the accountant, was back.

And as the accountant, she had to count her winnings and see if they had enough for Carson to redeem his IOUs. But first, she had to get home, and the flashing lights that suddenly appeared behind them was about to make that impossible.

“Ah, Cat, look what you’ve done.”

“Cripes! The cops. Want me to outrun them?”

“No! Of course not. I just don’t know how I’m going to explain why I’m wearing men’s socks and am soaking wet.”

“So don’t say anything. I’m driving. I’m the one they’ll give the ticket to. It won’t be my first.”

Cat brought the car to a stop. The police cruiser rolled in behind them, and with the red-and-blue strobes still flashing, the door opened and the tall shape of a man appeared in the light.

“All right, ladies, where are you going in such a hurry?”

Cat let down the window and was about to speak when Katie opened her door and stepped out. She couldn’t let Cat take the blame for something she’d caused.

“Please, Officer, it wasn’t my friend’s fault.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“You see, it was storming and I—I fell into the river and she rescued me.”

The driver shone his light into the car, playing it around, then moved around the car to meet Katie, momentarily taken aback by the obvious truth of her story. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

“Yes, except I’m a bit cold.”

He made a motion to take off his jacket, but Katie stopped him. “No, that’s all right. My friend was just overly concerned about me. She didn’t realize how fast she was going. Once I get home, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” He helped Katie back into the car and closed her door, then walked slowly around the front of the car and leaned down into the open window. “I’ll let you go with a warning this time,” he said. “Just watch your speed.”

“Sure thing,” Cat agreed, patted the officer on the arm, and drove away, leaving the uniformed man in her graveled wake.

“That helpless approach works every time, Katie, my girl,” Cat said with an approving laugh. “Maybe I’ll keep you around. If you aren’t going to give me a raise, at least you’d save me a pile of money.”

Katie shivered. She really was getting cold, either that or her nervous system was collapsing, one cell at a time.

“Not,” she said through chattering teeth, “if I have to jump back in the river first.”

“We’ve had some desperate losers, but never one who went overboard,” Royal said.

Montana stood looking at the water, twirling an unlit cheroot in his fingertips. “She had a royal flush. The queen of hearts was her hole card.”

Royal stared at his boss, his mouth hanging open. “You mean she beat you? Then I sure can’t figure out why she jumped in the river.”

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