The Wedding Ransom (31 page)

It wasn’t until after they toted the hot food the short distance to the inn and she, Lucky, Snake, and Mrs. Craig joined Gallagher’s guests at the long dining-room table that she glanced around and asked, “Where are Gus and Rafe? Have they already eaten breakfast?”

Lucky got a look on his face that suggested he’d bit into a lemon, only he was eating a flapjack and Papa Snake never put anything the least bit sour in his recipe. One glance at Papa Snake confirmed her suspicion. The papas were hiding something. “Lucky? Where is Gus?”

The pirate cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t rightly know. I haven’t seen him for a bit.”

“Snake?”

He squinched his eyes and frowned as if in pain. Laying down his fork, he lifted a hand to his chest. “Well, rip me sails, I do believe I’m feeling a peculiar catch in my lungs.”

Maggie shot him a narrow-eyed glare. More likely he was feeling a pang of guilt. Snake never had been able to lie to her worth a clam. “I’ve heard that a dose of truth medicates that condition well.”

When neither of her grandfathers deigned to answer, Maggie looked at the widow Craig. That woman offered a vague smile before turning her head to ask a buffalo hunter about his intended route west. Frustrated, but recognizing it wouldn’t do to air the family laundry in front of strangers, Maggie bided her time until the guests had finished their meals and left the table. At that point, she gave each of her grandfathers in turn a pointed look. “Where are they?”

When once again the men ignored her, she decided desperate measures were called for. She reached across the table and swiped Papa Lucky’s plate right out from beneath his fork.

“Hey, Magpie! I’m not through with that. This is the first time Snake has cooked since his spell. Those are the best flapjacks I’ve had in a coon’s age.”

“They’ll be the best ones you’ve worn on your lap if you don’t come clean.”

“Clean!” he replied, slapping his chest in affront. “Why, Magpie, I took a bath just last night.”

“Where are they, Papa?”

Lucky grimaced, then said, “Gone.”

“Gone where?”

“I can’t rightly say.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Snake piped in. “Malone didn’t want you to know.”

Maggie folded her arms. “Excuse me? So you’ve switched your loyalty from your granddaughter to Gentleman Rafe Malone?
You
, of all people, Papa Snake?”

From the look on his face, he’d taken a bite of the same sour flapjack Lucky had gotten hold of earlier. “It’s not like that, Maggie,” he said, foundering.

“That’s right, Magpie. It’s not like that.”

“Then explain to me why should I think otherwise. From where I’m standing it looks like the four of you have ganged up against me. For all I know, Papa Ben is in on this, too.”

“Now wait a minute, gal. Ben doesn’t know anything about this. How could he? When Malone headed here, Ben planned to return to Bliss. None of us have had the chance to tell him what’s been happening. Ben is innocent.”

Maggie jumped on that like a duck on a june bug. “But you two are guilty!”

The two men shared a look. “She’s stubborn,” Lucky said.

“I’m afraid we’d need ten yoke of ox to pull her off her position,” Snake replied.

“We gave it a good try.” Lucky nodded.

“Gave them a decent head start.” Snake flicked his earrings with a finger.

“Are you ready to quit?”

“I’ve done sheathed my cutlass.”

Lucky swiped his napkin across his mouth. Snake took a quick gulp of coffee. “Well?” Maggie asked.

“Triumph,” Lucky said. “They’ve gone to Triumph Plantation.”

Snake added, “It’s what we’ve wanted all along, Maggie. Malone is going to steal back our treasure.”

“No!” Maggie covered her mouth with her hand and slowly sank back against her chair. She recalled the agony in Rafe’s voice as he explained his reasons for refusing to steal the treasure when she had begged for his help. She remembered the anguish visible on his face. Why? Why was he doing this? He’d hate it. He’d hate himself.

“He’ll hate me.”

M
aggie used every sea creature she could think of to curse Rafe Malone as she hurried toward the summer kitchen. She was mad enough to eat bees. How could he have gone off to ruin his life without speaking to her about it first?

Stealing the treasure from Andrew Montgomery meant he’d break his word to Luke. Not that he’d get caught. Rafe was too talented a thief for that. But in taking the treasure, he’d be giving away his soul. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

But then, neither could she abandon her papas by allowing them to lose Hotel Bliss. Time had all but run out. Her untimely bout with the rheumatism made her original plan to trick Montgomery out of the treasure impractical. Even if she could catch up with Rafe and convince him not to interfere with her plan, she couldn’t be certain of securing the treasure in time to get it back to Hotel Bliss before the deadline.

Stopping in her tracks, she stared at a squirrel perched on the limb of a nearby loblolly pine and asked, “So what do I do? How can I even consider trying to stop Rafe? Yet, how can I not do everything in my power to stop him?”

She wanted to lie down and bawl.

Too bad she wasn’t at home. If she were home, she’d make a beeline for the lake. A swim in the soothing waters of Lake Bliss would do her a world of good at the moment. Along with working any lingering stiffness from her joints, swimming always offered her the opportunity to do some of her best thinking. And it would take some really hard contemplation to work her way out of this conundrum.

She started moving again, though now she stepped more slowly. A shadow of a thought hovered at the back of her mind. Maggie knew it was there, sensed what it meant, and tried her best to ignore it. There had to be another way.

Maggie kicked a bright yellow dandelion. Maybe she should ride up to Andrew Montgomery’s house and ask for his assistance flat out—no trickery or manipulation involved. But what if he said no? What if too much bad blood existed between him and the papas for Montgomery to ever agree to help? Dare she risk it?

No, not when another way out existed. Not when two little words would save not only Rafe but the papas, too.

Maggie could hold back acknowledgment of the solution no longer. Two little words said to Barlow Hill: I do.

“Oh, God.” Maggie bent over double.

She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t face such a fate. She couldn’t stand the thought of him touching her. Memory of his lips upon her neck made her nauseous. Marriage to Barlow Hill would be miserable. Horrible.

It could be short
.

Maggie slowly straightened. She drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush and resumed walking. A short marriage to Barlow Hill. Maybe she could handle that. She could think of it like a bout of rheumatism, something unpleasant but bearable, because it didn’t last forever. A short marriage to Barlow Hill. “I could do that.”

The question became, how would she see it ended?

Murder was out. Although she knew her papas wouldn’t hesitate to accommodate her, she couldn’t live with murder on her conscience. Divorce sounded nice. Annulment even better. The trick would be to arrange matters so that she ended up with the property when the bedsheets split, so to speak.

The longer she thought about it, the more she warmed to the idea. Women enjoyed more liberal property rights in the Republic of Texas than they did in the United States. It might take a little effort on her and an attorney’s part to get the details the way she’d need them, but chances were good she could manage it.

An attorney. She’d need to find a good one right away. She wouldn’t trust the man who’d represented them during the Lake Bliss lawsuit to draft a handbill, much less a legal document. Who did she know who was a lawyer?

Hadn’t Rafe told her he’d once read law?

A laugh sputtered from her mouth. Somehow she couldn’t picture going to him for legal advice, under the circumstances. She’d ask Martha to recommend a man. Someone from Nacogdoches. That way Maggie could detour by town and have papers drawn up before returning to Bliss.

She whirled around and retraced her steps to the inn where she found the widow Craig upstairs changing bedsheets. Maggie explained she needed an attorney and asked for the widow’s recommendation.

Mrs. Craig frowned. “A number of lawyers do business in Nacogdoches, dear. I’m not entirely certain whom I should recommend. I must say that if you intend to make trouble for Gentleman Rafe, I’ll refuse to help.”

Maggie shook her head. “It’s not like that, Mrs. Craig. You see, Rafe is putting himself in danger by trying to help me. I need to stop him before something terrible happens, and I need a lawyer’s assistance to do it. Please help me, Mrs. Craig. I need an attorney with excellent skills, but someone whose ethics are a tad bit questionable. And I need him fast.”

“Rafe is in danger, you say?”

“Dire straits.”

Martha thumped her lips with an index finger as she thought. After a moment, she nodded. “Lester Bodine is the man you need. His office is on the square.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Craig.” Maggie took hold of her hands and kissed her weathered cheek. “Thank you for everything. I owe you so much. As soon as you’re able, I want you to visit us at Hotel Bliss. I’ll personally lead you through a mud-bath regime that will leave you feeling twenty years younger.”

“You don’t owe me anything, child. Just take care of our Rafe. That rogue holds a corner of my heart.”

As Maggie hurried downstairs, she tried to block the troublesome idea that where her own heart was concerned, Rafe had claimed much more than a corner.

She made a brief detour to the inn’s office where she penned and sealed a letter, then exited the building in search of her grandfathers. She found Snake and Lucky near the carriage house, each with a wrench in his hand as they tended to some minor repairs on the hearse, each fussing about the quality of the other’s work.

Maggie’s heart filled with love at the sound of their bickering. It was wonderful to see Snake back in fighting form, and she was determined to keep him that way. Owing to Snake’s delicate health, she should present her plan in a sensitive manner. In other words, Maggie needed to lie.

Approaching her grandfathers, she pasted on a smile and asked, “Hi, Papas. What are you doing?”

Lucky looked at Snake. “She’s got that tone in her voice.”

“Aye.” Snake folded his arms and glared at her. “What is it this time?”

Maggie gave her head a toss. She’d best be careful now. This had to be done with just the right touch. “Don’t you give me that look, either one of you! I’ve come to apologize for running out on you at breakfast this morning.”

The papas shared a glance and said, “Uh-huh.” Snake added, “What do you have up your sleeve?”

Maggie offered him a brilliant smile and replied, “Actually it’s in my pocket. It’s a letter.” She whipped out a sealed missive. “I’ve made a couple of decisions, and I need to ask for your help. Both of you.”

Lucky lifted his hat off his head and scratched the back of his neck. “We were right again.”

“I can already tell I’m not going to like this.”

“Yes, you are, Papa Snake.” Maggie stepped forward and took his hand. “The news that Rafe has gone after the treasure for us has lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. I was angry earlier because before I got sick, I wheedled some information about Triumph Plantation from one of the other guests. Rafe took off before I could tell him about the secret room off Montgomery’s office.”

“A secret room?” Snake asked.

“Yes,” Maggie lied. “That might be where he keeps the treasure. Rafe needs to know about it before he wastes too much time looking in other spots.”

“She’s right,” Lucky said.

“Of course I’m right.” Maggie waved the letter. “That’s why one of us needs to take him the information.”

“It has to be me.” Lucky grabbed the letter from her hand and turned it over. “Why did you seal it? Did you write something you don’t want me to see? Do you and Malone have some secrets between you?”

“What’s the need for secrets?” Snake stuffed his wrench in his shirt pocket and added, “Malone confessed to me himself. I have decided to put off killing him until after he steals the treasure, you’ll be pleased to know.”

“Thank you, Papa Snake,” Maggie dryly replied. She would have preferred a different distraction from the fact she’d sealed the letter, but under the circumstances she’d take what she could get. “Papa Lucky? When do you think you’ll be able to leave?”

“Here’s my hat, what’s my hurry, little girl?”

“Now, Papa.” She flashed him a tender smile. “Don’t get your feelings hurt. I’m trying to do what’s best for all of us. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll get to Rafe so he can steal the treasure, and then the sooner we’ll be home with the deed to Lake Bliss back in our names.”

“That sure sounds nice. Tell you what, soon as I can get a horse saddled up, I’ll be off.” Lucky tucked the letter into his pocket and turned to Snake. “You watch out for Magpie while I’m gone, you hear?”

“We’ll watch out for each other, Papa,” Maggie replied, slipping her arm through Snake’s.

They’d watch out for each other all the way back to Lake Bliss. Once she was certain Lucky was on his way to Triumph, she intended to talk Snake into his seat inside the hearse and head for Nacogdoches. The timing of her plan would be imperative. She didn’t want to marry Barlow Hill a day earlier than necessary, but she also couldn’t wait so long that Rafe could possibly arrive at the hotel in time to stop her. If he even wanted to stop her, that is. Would it bother Rafe to know she planned to marry Barlow Hill?

Maggie suspected the answer would be yes. Because, for Rafe to willingly break his word to Luke, he must have powerful motivation, something as strong as the reason why she would voluntarily marry Barlow Hill. Maybe he loved her.

Just as she loved him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Moonlit darkness surrounded the three-storied Greek Revival manor house on Triumph Plantation. Blending into the blackness of the pine forest, Rafe’s gaze roamed across the six polished walnut columns supporting the front gallery, searching for signs of movement. The house remained dark and quiet, just as it had for the past three hours.