The Wedding Ransom (32 page)

Rafe laid his hand on the shoulder of the man standing beside him and gave it a silent squeeze before slipping from the cover of the trees. Stealthily, he made his way across the clearing toward the house, confident that his partner would follow at his signal as prearranged. Gus had high hopes for the success of the night’s efforts. He was convinced that Montgomery would keep the riches nearby, and that a thief of Rafe’s skill would locate the stash quickly. Rafe hoped like hell he was correct. The deadline for closing the deal with Barlow Hill was approaching fast.

Except for a few hours of badly needed sleep, he and Gus had effectively used the time since their arrival at Triumph. The day before, they had searched the cotton gin, the blacksmith’s shop, and the carriage house. Their luck had taken a turn for the good when Andrew Montgomery loaded a valise into a buggy and informed his housekeeper he’d be away from Triumph for two days. The planter’s absence had given the thieves a perfect opportunity to search the main house.

Last night Rafe and Gus had slipped into the house and made a cursory search of the unoccupied rooms, including Montgomery’s bedroom. Rafe had been surprised to find a drawing of Maggie framed and decorating a bedside table. Failing to locate any sign of the treasure, they had descended to the first floor with the intention of giving the study a thorough search. The housekeeper had thwarted their plans, however, when she chose to deal with an apparent attack of insomnia by curling up with a book in the plump leather chair occupying that room.

Tonight they hoped to enjoy better success.

Rafe made a circuit around the house, watching and listening for any sign of wakefulness from within. Except for the drone of a pair of crickets and an occasional hoot of an owl, all remained quiet. Rafe moved to the north side of the house and paused just outside the study’s French doors.

He didn’t expect to find the treasure in the study—that would be too easy—but he did hope to discover a clue that would lead them to the cache. Should their efforts prove unsuccessful, upon Montgomery’s return to the plantation, Rafe intended to abandon the idea of stealth and go straight to threats.

The bastard deserved a good scare. Montgomery deserved a helluva lot more than that for his sins against Maggie. But as much as Rafe would like to beat the peewaddling out of Montgomery the first chance he got, if they found the treasure tonight, revenge would have to wait. Punishing Andrew Montgomery was his desire, not Maggie’s. She needed him to get the treasure to Lake Bliss before Barlow Hill’s deadline.

Rafe lifted his face toward one of the windows in Montgomery’s suite of rooms.
Someday, you son of a bitch. Someday soon.

Rafe pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and signaled Gus to join him. Cautious servants had secured both the doors and the windows in their master’s absence, but locks proved little deterrent to a man of Gentleman Rafe Malone’s skills. Within minutes he’d gained entrance to the house by way of a second-story window. Swiftly and silently, he made his way downstairs and into Andrew Montgomery’s study, shutting the door behind him. He used the heavy drapery to muffle the click when he flipped the lock on the French doors and allowed Gus Thomas to slip inside.

“Any trouble?” the pirate whispered.

Rafe shook his head. He loosened the drapery ties and covered the windows before lighting the lamp on Andrew Montgomery’s desk. While the pirate searched the bookshelf, Rafe sat in the desk chair and tried the drawers. The bottom left refused to open. He removed a letter opener from the middle drawer and jimmied the lock. The drawer slid open, and Rafe turned his attention to the files inside.

The two men labored silently for almost ten minutes, then a soft exclamation attracted Rafe’s attention. Gus had discovered the safe.

Rafe carried the lamp closer to the false wall behind a section of the bookshelves. He studied the lock intently, then his lips lifted in a slow smile. He was familiar with this brand. He knew its tricks. Handing the lamp to Gus, he reached into his pants pocket and removed a small pick he’d lifted earlier from the stable. He rested his ear against the steel door and went to work. Fifteen minutes later, the safe swung open.

Inside he found a small amount of cash and a number of legal documents. He pushed aside a gold pocket watch, then removed a ribbon-tied packet of letters. The salutation drew his eyes like a magnet:
To my beloved daughter, Mary Margaret.

Rafe’s brows arched. He’d always sensed the pirates hadn’t told the entire story. He motioned for Gus to hand him one of the empty canvas bags he carried, then he dumped the cash, the documents, and the letters inside, leaving behind the watch.

“Is that all there is?” Gus asked worriedly.

Rafe reached into the safe and removed a small blue velvet pouch with gold braided drawstrings. “Except for this.”

Gus’s eyes lit with excitement as he swiped the bag from Rafe’s hand. “This is it! Laffite awarded these jewels to Captain Ben for saving his life. If everything is still here, this should be enough. Look, Malone. Hold out your hand.” He opened the drawstring and tipped the pouch. Glittering jewels—diamonds and sapphires and more—dribbled out onto Rafe’s palm.

Just as light spilled into the room from the entry hall.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Nick Callahan stood at the doorway of the study holding a Colt revolver in one hand and a hangman’s noose in the other. He moved into the room followed by a pair of men carrying pistols and wearing stars on their vests. “It’s the middle of the night. I see an open safe and a bag of loot. Gentlemen, it looks like we have a case of broken parole.”

“Well, shoot,” Rafe muttered. He briefly considered dosing the light and diving for the floor, but with five guns pointed his way, that option appeared suicidal. Eyeing the noose dangling from his brother’s hand, Rafe decided waiting around didn’t hold much appeal, either. If not for Gus, he’d have given the first idea a try. “Well, shoot,” he repeated.

“Not unless you make me,” Callahan replied with a snide smile. While one of the rangers set about lighting the rest of the room, Callahan slowly twirled the rope. “I’m gonna hang you, Malone. Finally. Nothing is going to stop me this time.”

Rafe had the nagging suspicion he might just be right. “You set us up. How did you do it? I’d have sworn I wasn’t followed from Gallagher’s.”

“I’m afraid you succeeded in giving us the slip. Mr. Thomas, however, wasn’t that lucky. Now we’ve caught you dead to rights, and you are gonna hang.”

“Wait a minute.” Gus stepped in front of Rafe. “You haven’t caught us dead to anything. You represent the law. You have to be legal about this. Malone wasn’t stealing, so he hasn’t broken his parole.”

“Not stealing?” Callahan laughed and gestured toward the gems sparkling in the palm of Rafe’s hand. “What do you call this?”

“Taking back,” Gus replied. “Those jewels belong to Captain Ben Scovall. We’re here to retrieve them on his behalf.”

As Gus launched into a long and meandering explanation about the treasure and how it came to be in Montgomery’s possession, Rafe’s gaze fastened on one of the jewels in his hand, a two-carat aquamarine. It made him think of Maggie. She should wear this gem. It matched her eyes. Caribbean blue. Chances were he’d never see her again.

He felt a yawning sensation in his chest. Funny how things worked. All the times over years he’d faced his own death, he’d never regretted it quite as much as he did now.
Ah, hell, darlin’. I never told you I loved you.

“Look,” Callahan said, waving the rope impatiently. “Your story is all very interesting, but it’s not accomplishing anything other than delaying a hanging.”

“I don’t mind,” Rafe said.

“Well, I do,” Callahan snapped.

Rafe caught movement at the doorway, out of the corner of his eye. Careful not to call the others’ attention to the fact that a shadow-cloaked figure was sneaking into the room behind them, he tried to discern the newcomer’s identity. Hope flared inside him, and then he realized just who tiptoed toward his half brother. Rafe couldn’t stop the groan bubbling up from his throat when he spied the footstool in his rescuer’s path.

Sure enough, just as he lifted an ancient gun to Nick Callahan’s head, unlucky Lucky tripped over the stool and went sprawling, knocking down Callahan in the process. His gun exploded and the rangers dove for cover—needlessly, Rafe knew. Lucky never would be lucky enough to actually hit someone who needed hitting.

Callahan recovered quickly enough to draw a bead on Rafe before Rafe managed to do more than palm the dagger he kept in his boot. “Hold it right there,” his half brother said as Gus rushed over to where Lucky lay moaning.

Gus ignored him and knelt on the floor beside his friend. “Did you break anything this time, Lucky?”

“I think I’m all right.”

“I think he broke me,” one ranger complained, protectively cradling his left arm as he climbed to his feet.

Gus’s eyes widened in admiration. “What do you know about that. Maybe your luck is finally changing, Lucky.”

The loud click of revolvers being cocked suggested otherwise. Rafe glanced up to see Callahan and the second ranger with guns at the ready, their jaws set and their eyes granite hard. Texas Rangers never did like being taken for fools, and Lucky had come darned close to doing just that.

Lucky struggled to sit up. “We’ve got trouble, Gus.”

Gus took a glance around the room and said dryly. “Nah.”

“It’s Magpie.” Lucky sought Rafe’s gaze as he added, “She’s gone and done something stupid.”

Tension shuddered up Rafe’s spine, and he got a cold, hollow feeling in the bottom of his stomach. “What?”

“I should have looked at the letter right away. She fooled me completely. Said she had a good idea where the treasure was stashed. Something she’d wheedled from one of Gallagher’s guests about a secret room off Andrew’s office.”

Fear shuddered through Rafe. “What has she done, Lucky? Is she here?”

The rangers whirled around, guns at the ready. Callahan swore with disgust and kept his gun on Rafe.

Lucky reached into his vest pocket.

“Careful, old man,” Callahan warned. “One wrong move and I’ll shoot you.”

“It’s a letter. A letter from Magpie to Malone. I don’t know what she’s thinking.” He slowly removed a folded sheet of paper and held it out for Callahan to see. “She’s gone crazy. I think the sickness must have affected her mind this time. Have you ever heard of that? Is it possible to get rheumatism of the brain?”

“What the hell has she done?” Rafe demanded, ignoring the gun pointed at his heart as he set the jewels on the desk and snatched the letter from Lucky’s hand. His gaze skimmed the page. “Oh, no. I’ll kill her. Just wait til I get my hands on her, I’m gonna kill her.”

“Damn you, Malone,” Callahan shouted. “You’re not going to do anything! You’re going to be dead!”

If Callahan had been any other man, any less of a gunman, Rafe would have launched for his throat. As it was, he was forced to control his temper and use his brain, because he needed to come out of this alive.

He needed to stop that hardheaded, softhearted Maggie St. John from marrying Barlow Hill.

He sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “Look, Nick. You and I need to talk. You’re fixing to make another big mistake, and another innocent woman is going to suffer because of it. Can your conscience stand it? If Maggie gets hurt that’ll be three women on your soul, Callahan. Rachel, Rosa, and now Maggie. Could you live with yourself?”

Callahan’s face drained, then flushed with color. Rafe read the intent in his eyes and braced himself. With a roar of rage, his brother launched himself at Rafe.

They fell to the floor. Callahan landed a hard punch to Rafe’s jaw. “It’s you. You killed her. You got drunk and you raped her and you killed her.” He dropped his Colt to wrap his fingers around Rafe’s neck.

It was just the opportunity Rafe had been looking for. With a wide swipe of his hands he shoved the gun toward Gus. At the same time, while his brother’s hands squeezed his throat, he jabbed upward with the dagger, pricking Callahan’s skin just above his jugular. For barely a second, Nick’s hands relaxed. But it was enough. Rafe gasped in a breath and shoved with his feet, rolling them both over until he sat on his brother’s chest, knife at the throat.

He felt the gun at the back of his head almost immediately. One of the rangers said, “Drop it, Malone.”

Gus’s voice followed right away. “You drop it, Ranger.”

“Everybody drop everything,” the second ranger said. “I’ve got everyone covered.”

Rafe’s gaze never left his brother’s. “This is between you and me, Nick. Let’s settle it once and for all. Call off your men. Tell them to wait outside. Otherwise, we’ll have a blood bath on our hands.”

“Captain?” one of the rangers asked hesitantly.

“Go. Wait outside.”

Rafe added, “Gus, Lucky, that includes you, too. My brother and I need to talk.”

“Brother?” Gus asked in a shocked tone of voice. “Callahan is your brother?”

“It’s a hell of a deal, old man,” Callahan answered.

Rafe waited until the room emptied, then he rolled off Nick and onto his feet. He returned the knife to his boot, then asked, “You want a drink?”

Nick sat up, rubbing his hand across his neck. “Yeah.”

Rafe pulled the stoppers off a pair of decanters and sniffed. “Rum or whiskey?”

“Whiskey.”

Rafe splashed the liquor into a pair of crystal glasses, then handed one to Nick once he’d climbed to his feet. Rafe nursed his along while Nick tossed his back, then poured himself a second. “All right. You have the floor. What is it you want to say?”

“Maggie St. John is in serious trouble, and I need you to give me the chance to get her out of it. I give you my word I’ll come back here or meet you wherever you want afterward. We can settle this problem between us once and for all. But right now, I need to go take care of Maggie.”

Callahan’s laugh was anything but amused. “Let me get this straight. Your light o’ love is in trouble, and you’ve come to me for help. Me. Isn’t that rich? You murder my woman, but you ask me to help you save yours.”