The Fall of Rome (23 page)

Victoria wanted so badly to be accepted, yet given her history, she anticipated the familiar--rejection. Her heart, fluttering with joy mere seconds ago, thudded slowly and painfully in her chest. Self-conscious, she wished herself invisible as they neared the animated trio.

London spoke, or rather, snapped first. “What the hell, Grant? Paris has no business traveling over rugged territory when she’s this far along.”

“Exactly what I told her,” the man grit out, sliding his wife a peeved look before glaring at his brother-in-law. “Don’t tell me how to care for my wife, Garrett.”

“Wouldn’t have to if you showed some common sense.” Josh stepped forward, and Paris stepped between them. The dark-haired sprite with the freckled nose smacked her brothers chest. “Stop picking on Josh. He refused to bring me, but then Emily and I came up with this plan and he overheard us and--”

“Enough said.” London frowned at his sister.

“At least I got her to agree to my stipulation,” Josh said. “I’ll be staying in Phoenix until the baby’s born.” Paris’s tiny smile indicated she wasn’t displeased.

“I’m not going to risk bouncing and jostling you around a second time,” Josh said, tugging at her messy braid. “If the kid’s anything like you, she’ll come kicking and screaming into the world in the middle of the desert just to give me grey hair.”

“Not to mention,” Paris said while stealing a glance at Victoria. “He’s not fond of our new town doctor. Doc Barry’s a little on the young side.”

“Doc Barry,” Josh said, “drinks too much.”

Victoria marveled at the frank and heartfelt family discussion. She also felt out of place and longed to withdraw into the background. A difficult habit to break. She felt London squeeze her hand as if reading her mind and sensed he was about to introduce her. She braced herself, but the tomboyish blond woman beat him to the task.

“Hello, my name is Emily.” Silent until now, she extended her hand to Victoria. “You must be Tori Adams. Mr. Fedderman told us about you when he came to visit Josh.” She indicated her companions, including London. “They don’t mean to be rude. Long trip. Unexpected arrival. Everyone’s worried about someone or another. Still, no excuse for skipping introductions.”

So much for being invisible.
Victoria clasped the woman’s hand. “I hope Mr. Fedderman fares well,” was all she managed. How was she going to explain about her true identity? They’d think her a liar before they even got to know her.

“John’s fine,” Josh said with a friendly smile. “Sends his regards. Apologies for our poor manners, ma’am.” He smiled and Victoria thought him handsome and kind, though not nearly as handsome and kind as London. “Joshua Grant,” he said, removing his hat in greeting. “This is my wife, as you’ve probably guessed, Paris.”

“I get carried away sometimes. Mouth runs ahead of my brain. My apologies as well, Miss Adams,” Paris said, brown eyes sparking with curiosity. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Victoria said, skin burning when the woman glanced down and saw her fingers interlaced with London’s. Victoria tried to slip free, but London held tight.

“Let’s take this discussion inside,” he said. “We’re gaining an audience.”

Though only an hour past sunrise, the town was starting to come to life. Early birds took note of the commotion in front of the Last Chance. London had pegged his family as colorful. An understatement. In addition, people were no doubt whispering about the saloon owner and the immoral entertainer sleeping under his roof. Unless gossip had already spread about their impromptu wedding.

Victoria felt faint from the unwanted attention, but she stiffened her spine, a shadow dweller no more. “Have you no luggage?” she asked after a glance at the buckboard.

“We’re staying at Emily and Seth’s house,” Paris said.

“Their place sits on the outskirts of town,” Josh put in. “Swung by there first. Didn’t tally and rest though. Appreciate the opportunity to get Paris out of the sun and off her feet.”

“I was off my feet for the entire journey. Stop fussing.”

“Stop being a pain in the neck,” Josh said.

Emily snorted.

“You do realize you’re asking the impossible,” London said as they moved into the saloon.

Josh smiled and kissed the top of his wife’s head. “I do.”

Feeling like an intruder, Victoria desperately wanted to escape by doing the hospitable thing and offering to make breakfast. Only London had yet to announce their marriage. Stepping in as hostess would be premature. Her discomfort mounted by the second.

“What happened on the train,” Paris blurted, once London locked the front doors behind them, “must’ve been awful, Miss Adams.”

“I can’t imagine,” Emily said, her eyes mirroring Paris’s concern. “We read about it in the newspaper, but the story was even more chilling when relayed by Mr. Fedderman.” Victoria’s pulse galloped as glimpses of the robbery came to mind. Three men, two wearing bandannas that disguised the lower half of their faces, burst into the passenger car.
“Your valuables or your life!” one called. “Your choice. “
Sweat broke across her upper lip as she reached beneath the shawl to finger her locket.

“Paris,” London said, sounding annoyed. “Why were you so all-fired determined to come to Phoenix?”

Frowning, Josh eased his wife into a chair. “She thinks the family’s falling apart.”

“I don’t think it,” she squeaked, hands splayed across her big belly, “I know it. Seth joined a posse intent on tracking the gang that robbed that train, a gang led by Bulls-Eye Brady.”

The name sent a chill down Victoria’s spine.
“You should be ashamed, “ Tori railed, “terrorizing old men and defenseless women. That locket is worth a hell of a lot more to my friend than you, Mr. Big Shot Bulls-Eye. Leave her be!”

“Rome and Boston should be helping Seth,” Paris said, grabbing hold of Emily’s hand. “God knows they were hot on Brady’s path more than once, but instead they’re drinking and brawling and disappointing a whole lot of good people. Emily would sleep better if they were riding with Seth, and so would I, because it would mean they’d recovered from the scandal, business as usual.”

“And surely Miss Adams will rest easier,” Emily said, with a thoughtful nod to Victoria, “when the Ace-in-the Hole gang are brought to justice.”

“A person would have to be blind,” Paris said, “not to see that you don’t harbor warm regards for Miss Adams, London. I would think--”

“About that,” London said.

“--that you would want Brady squashed like a bug as soon as possible.”

“Calm down,” Josh said, squeezing her shoulder. “Fretting isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“Did you hear that?” Paris asked her brother. “I’d fret a whole lot less if you were out there doing what you usually do, London. Why aren’t you out there lecturing the devil out of Rome and Boston? Knocking their stubborn, self-destructive heads together?”

“I told her things are under control,” Josh said with a cryptic glance at London.

“I’d like to believe that,” Paris said, with a sympathetic glance to Victoria, “but I don’t. I have a bad feeling. Even Athens is acting squirrelly. He’s head over heels in love with Kaila, but he’s dragging his heels walking her down the aisle. He’s obsessed with work again, only instead of politics he’s stuck on hunting down murderers like Bulls-Eye.” Another chill. Another vision.

“Thank you kindly for your money, miss. I’ll take that pretty necklace, too. “

“No. Please. It’s the only thing I have of my mother’s. “

“I’m telling you,” Paris said, “when Athens heard that a woman had been killed in that train robbery, it reminded him of how Jocelyn died and pushed him into a vengeful state.”

The grey-eyed devil cocked his gun.
“That locket worth dying for?”

Tori struck out in Victoria’s defense, and the outlaw struck hack. Hard.

“My fault,” Victoria whispered, wiping her hands down her dress.
The blood. So much blood.

“Mercy!” Paris exclaimed, pushing to her feet. “Are you all right, Miss Adams?”

“Maybe we should change the subject,” Emily said.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up,” Josh grumbled.

“Victoria,” London said softly, stilling her hands.

Tears blurred her vision, her head spun. “If only I’d given him my locket,” she cried. The guilt was crushing, unbearable. She felt London catch her as her knees gave way. “Tori would still be alive.”

Pima County

Kat’s muscles screamed. She hadn’t ridden this hard for so long . . . ever. But she didn’t complain. She’d walk through a hail of bullets to secure Frankie’s safety. Whatever it takes.

The miles and scenery blurred as they rode north, leaving the perennial green valley and the rugged Rincons in the dust. The bold Santa Catalina mountain range had looked daunting, but the well-traveled stage road proved an expedient route. Superior horsemen, the men pushed their mounts hard, but as promised, Kat didn’t slow them down. No one spoke, but every now and then, Rome spared her a look and his gaze spoke volumes.
He cares.
Even though she’d shocked and disappointed him, he was concerned for her well-being and state of mind. She continually broke eye contact, not wanting to succumb to the tender feelings he inspired. If she softened, she’d fall apart.

Her imagination proved cruel over the hours, torturing her with scenes of Brady killing Boston and stealing Frankie. She didn’t want to think he would harm a little girl, but she had no reason to believe him incapable. His treachery had progressed over the years. He’d started off cheating fellow gamblers of their funds, something Kat hadn’t realized at first. Something she couldn’t stomach when she found out. Sure, she was a gambler, born and raised. But skilled, not dishonest. Her father had never indulged in shifty tricks of the trade, confidence games, and gaffed equipment, so she’d been appalled when Brady suggested they work the circuit as a couple utilizing disreputable tactics. Between that and his mounting possessiveness, she’d known within days that she’d made a dire mistake in letting him whisk her away from San Francisco. Brady continued to shower her with practiced charm, but she no longer wanted his attention. His touch left her cold, and she managed to avoid his bed for multiple, concocted reasons. Only after a while he mistook her refusal as playing coy, playing games. The more she resisted, the more he rallied. He even offered to marry her, then he insisted. His persistence only heightened her desire to flee.

Then she’d witnessed his first killing and fleeing had become time sensitive.

Kat shoved away the memory. It inspired guilt and regret. She didn’t want to feel. Anything. Good or bad. She focused on the horizon beyond the rocky pass, on the rhythmic pounding of hooves. She kneed her mount faster and leaned into the wind. If only it could blow away her many mistakes.

A gunshot rang out, echoing between the narrow canyon walls. Then another. Seth’s horse went down, and Kat felt herself being plucked from the saddle. A blurred moment later she hit the ground hard, pinned beneath Rome.

“Don’t move,” he said. “I mean it, Kat. Don’t even twitch.”

Twitch? She could barely breathe. But her thoughts churned plenty.
Brady.

“Seth,” Rome barked.

“I’m alive.”

“He’s hit!” Athens called. “It’s bad!”

“Not that bad,” Seth snapped. “Get the hell off of me, Garrett.”

Another shot rang and pinged off of a nearby rock.

Squashed to the ground, Kat couldn’t see, but she could hear.

“Goddammit, Garrett. Keep your head down,” Seth ordered. “Roll behind that boulder and stay there.”

“Your shoulder--”

“Leave him be, Athens,” Rome called, “and do as he said.”

“But he’s hurt,” Kat whispered.” Wright’s a tough son of a bitch,” Rome said close to her ear. “Don’t fret.”

Tall order.

“Rome,” Seth called low.

“Yeah.”

“Straight across. Northeast ridge. Formation shaped like a teakettle.”

“Yup.”

“Watch.”

Kat tried to look, but Rome forced her head down. “Got it,” he said to Seth.

“I see it, too,” said Athens.

Kat vibrated with frustration.

Rome slid off of her. Belly to ground, he offered her a single-action revolver. “Know how to use this?”

She nodded and took the gun.

“It’s loaded with five cartridges.” He dumped a handful of ammunition into a kerchief and passed her that, too. Then he shifted her slightly and pointed out the teakettle formation. “Whoever’s shooting at us is behind that rock.”

“You’re talking like it’s one person.”

“It is.”

“How can you know?”

He grinned. “It’s what I do.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect he was enjoying this. Maybe he was. The danger. The action. The act of protecting--her--and avenging--Seth. The act of felling a miscreant. “But Brady always travels with his gang.”

“If it was Brady, I would have taken that bullet,” he said. “Not Seth.”

“Then who?”

“I aim to find out.” He looked to his left.

She looked, too, but she couldn’t see anything aside from cacti and boulders.

“Seth. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Probably. But I’m going to need a rifle.”

“Noted. Wait for my mark.”

“Don’t do anything reckless, Rome,” Athens gritted out.

“Only way I know, brother.” He looked to Kat. “On my word, fire at that rock. Two rounds only, spaced a breath apart.”

Sweat beaded her brow. “I’ll never hit him at this range.”

“Just looking for a distraction, sugar.” He slid a .45 from his holster. “Ready, boys?”

They affirmed and Kat aimed.

“Now.”

She squeezed the trigger. Cocked, breathed, and fired again. She heard simultaneous shots--Seth and Athens-- and returned fire from the ridge. She glanced over and saw Rome dodging bullets as he hotfooted it to the felled horse and his own horse, liberating Winchesters from their scabbards. Her mouth went dry with fear, her pent-up breath whooshing out when he tossed a rifle to Seth, then rolled out of sight.