Velvet Thunder (39 page)

“Oh, I'm sorry. How thoughtless of me.”

She could see that Heath was disappointed. When she opened her mouth to reassure him, he bent to kiss her again, this time tenderly. It moved her more than the passionate embrace they had exchanged earlier. He lifted his head and she dropped her lashes to hide the unfulfilled desire shining in her eyes.

He touched her cheek gently. “I love you, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

She nodded. “Good night.” Raising her gaze, she watched him as he walked away. Before he disappeared around the corner, she ran to him. “Heath, wait.”

“I knew you couldn't resist me.”

She could see that he was teasing her. “I just wanted to say”—she lowered her voice—“I love you too.”

His smile lit up her heart. Brushing her lips with a gentle kiss, he vowed his love again, then whispered, “Good night, sugar.”

By the time she reached her room, Ann was standing outside the door, dressed in a man's three-piece suit, holding her top hat, gloves, and cane with one arm. With the other she held a similar outfit for Stevie.

Stevie blushed furiously.

Ann actually laughed. “All I've got to say is you two had better hurry and get married” was her sage advise. “Mama says society frowns on babies born out of wedlock.”

If only she knew . . .

 

 

Leon, the young driver who had provided the gents' clothing for Ann and Stevie, halted the carriage outside the gentlemen's club. The street front was cluttered with expensive carriages drawn by blooded horseflesh, the owners spending a relaxing evening at their club.

“Pull around the corner and wait for us,” Ann instructed. “We won't be more than fifteen minutes. I just want to see what it's like inside.”

The boy regarded her worshipfully. “Before you're leg-shackled to Eugene?”

Arm tossed her head defiantly. “Over my dead body.”

When Leon was out of sight, Ann and Stevie mounted the stairs. They never made it inside the club. Soaked handkerchiefs covered their noses and mouths as strong hands dragged them back down the steps into the discreet black carriage that awaited them.

The last thing Stevie saw before she lost consciousness was a black eye patch.

Sitting at the breakfast table, Heath dropped his head into his hands. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. His back ached; his legs throbbed. The heaping plate of eggs and crisp bacon under his nose made him queasy.

He shoved his breakfast away forcefully and downed a brimming tumbler of whiskey. Stevie and Ann had been missing for five days now. The two women had disappeared without a trace. He, Chap, Rad, and half the law-enforcement agents in New York had been searching for them around the clock.

Heath's first thought when he discovered Stevie missing was that his mother'd relied on an old plan and had her kidnapped. The voice of reason, Chap had pointed out that Ann was gone too. No matter how hard their mother was, they doubted she would harm her own daughter, at least not physically.

Unconvinced and crazed with worry, Heath had said some things to his mother that she would never forgive. But he couldn't worry about that now. All he could think about was finding Stevie and Ann.

Stevie had been so sick on the train. He kept picturing her in some dingy hole, sick, cold, starving. It was almost more than he could bear.

Once he admitted to himself that his mother was not to blame, he decided that Judge Jack had kidnapped Ann and Stevie, undoubtedly to wreak vengeance of both him and Stevie. When he found the man—and he would find him—he would tear him apart with his own two hands. Hanging would be too good for him. The judge had gone beyond the barrier; he had dared to touch Stevie.

If he lost her now—Heath couldn't finish the thought.

“Mr. Heath, can I have a word with you?”

Heath raised red-rimmed eyes. He clenched his jaw and tried to maintain a shred of composure. “Leon, I don't care to speak with you right now. I know I shouldn't blame you, but if you hadn't indulged Annie, she and Stevie might be safe at home.”

“I don't blame you a bit, sir. If I was you, I'd give me a strappin'.” The boy could see in Heath's turbulent gaze that he was tempted to do just that. “But I might have some information that can help you find Miss Ann and your fiancée. I was talkin' to my cousin that works down on the docks—”

Heath surged to his feet, grabbed Leon's arm, and propelled him from the breakfast room. “You can tell me on the way.”

When they reached the foyer, they ran into an unexpected confrontation. Smithers was instructing two of the footmen to physically remove a dark-haired young man from the premises. The stranger was mad as hell.

Chap and Rad entered the hallway, coming to investigate the ruckus; their wives were right behind them. The general stood at the top of the stairs. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once.

Heath didn't give a damn what the man was doing there, didn't care if he burned Turner House to the ground. He just wanted to get past him and go find Stevie and Ann. The young man pointed at Heath and called over his shoulder, “Is that him?”

The soft answer in the affirmative was lost in the din. The stranger called Heath an unpleasant name and lunged for him, catching him around the middle. They crashed to the floor.

Heath banged his head on the polished marble. The room faded out of focus. He raised his gaze to the man sitting on his chest. He looked vaguely familiar. But he shrugged off the thought. From somewhere deep inside him Heath knew he had to get to Stevie. He feared that if he didn't find her soon, it would be too late. Desperate, he struggled to remove the man sprawled atop him.

Heath's assailant was big and strong. His strength almost superhuman, fueled by anger and righteous indignation. Heath fought just as hard, from desperation. They were an even match. It took both of the footmen, Smithers, and Rad and Chap to pull the combatants apart. Under the general's supervision, of course.

When General Turner thundered for quiet, miraculously everyone obeyed. He turned toward the intruder. “Now, young man, what in hell has made you so mad that you would invade my home and attack my son?”

He spat at Heath's feet. “That son of a bitch got my sister pregnant and kidnapped her. Without marrying her.”

“Jeff Johns, I presume,” Heath hazarded. No wonder he looked familiar. Heath gasped suddenly. “Did you say pregnant?” He looked at Chap for confirmation. Chap nodded. “Oh, God,” Heath uttered, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand.

Blue wound her way through the gaping crowd and stepped up to Jeff's side. She grabbed his arm roughly. “You idiot. Heath wouldn't hurt Stevie.” She turned pleading eyes on Heath. “I tried to tell him. So did Pilar and Sandy. But he just went off half cocked.”

Jeff shot her an exasperated look. “I want to see my sister. Now! I'll believe it only from her.”

“I'm afraid that won't be possible, son,” the general said.

Heath turned toward his father. “It will soon.” He pushed Leon forward and called back to Jeff. “You can beat the hell out of me later if you want. Right now I'm going after Stevie.”

Jeff jerked a nod. “I can wait. I'm going with you.”

Just then Jay sauntered through the front door. Heath looked as if he were expecting him. “We goin' after the judge?”

“That's the plan,” Heath said, leading the way.

Rad and Chap followed Heath, Jeff, and Jay. As they rode down the street, it occurred to Blue that the men looked like a bloodthirsty posse on the chase.

That's exactly what they were.

 

 

Eugene entered the warehouse, waving a marriage license over his head triumphantly. “I finally got it.” It was what they had been waiting for, risking capture for, the license that would make his marriage to Ann legal. It had taken some time to grease the right palms. But as Judge Jack assured Eugene, just about anything could be had if the price was right.

Seated in the corner of the room on a makeshift pallet, Stevie and Ann were bound and gagged. Ann's eyes widened, giving her the look of a frightened doe in the sights of a hunter.

Stevie shifted closer to her, trying to reassure her with her presence.

“As soon as the judge gets back, sweet dear, you and I will be wed,” Eugene taunted Ann from across the room.

Ann's back stiffened. Her eyes shouted, “Go to hell!”

Stevie's mind raced ahead. The bastards would release them for this forced wedding. That's when she would make her move. She tried to smile at Ann around her gag. The rough cloth and her bruised and swollen jaw made the effort futile.

The night they were abducted, Judge Jack had confiscated her derringer. Fortunately, he had not discovered the bowie knife tucked inside her chemise. She couldn't do much with it, but perhaps she could hold them off until Heath could get there. And he would get there. Isn't that what heroes did? Rescued the women they loved?

The thought of Heath brought tears to her eyes. She turned toward the wall, not wanting to worry Ann, not wanting her captors to see her weakness. Men like Eugene and Judge Jack thrived on weakness in others. Probably because they were so weak themselves.

She and Ann had been a disappointment to them. Though they were totally at the brigands' mercy, they had managed to hide their fear. It was undoubtedly why they had fared as well as they had. One show of vulnerability, and the men would swoop down on them. Ann had realized that as surely as she.

Stevie leaned her head against the rough-hewn wood, absently caressing her locket for reassurance. If they could just hold on a little while longer, Heath would find them. She knew he would.

The men dismounted two blocks east of the warehouse indicated by Leon's cousin. They could see the building clearly from where they stood. The sun was bright overhead. Nestled between the towering buildings, the group was cast in shadows, unaware of the cool breeze blowing off the Atlantic. Bloodlust raged hotly through their veins.

Leon's cousin wiped his sweaty forehead with a grimy fist and addressed the men who towered over him. “It was five days ago, like I told Leon. I saw two scrawny-lookin' swells. They was bound and gagged, bein' dragged through that door by a big man with a black patch over one eye and another man, a prissy sort, looked like a mama's boy to me. One of the prisoners kicked the prissy one in the shin. That's when her hat fell off and all that blond hair spilled out. The man with the patch cuffed her on the jaw. Knocked her clean out. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her inside.”

Heath uttered a vile oath.

“Think the mama's boy could be Eugene?” Chap asked.

Rad responded, “Wouldn't put it past the bastard.”

Chap turned his attention to Heath. “You're the marshal, brother. I assume you have a plan.”

The look in Heath's eyes as he exchanged a glance with Jay did not bode well for the patched judge or the mama's boy.

 

 

Judge Jack returned to the warehouse just before noon. Looking over his shoulder, he unlocked the door and slipped inside. Arrogant, he didn't bother to lock the door.

It's about time you got back,” Eugene whined.

Jack ignored the complaint. “Let's get this over with. Miss Johns and I have a ship to catch.”

Stevie kept her face blank as Judge Jack untied her wrists. As soon as her gag dropped, she asked flatly, “Would you do me one favor before this goes any further?”

He laughed in her face. “What? Let you go?”

She was not amused. Her voice remained even, almost emotionless. “No. Tell me why you kidnapped me. It's obvious why the twit over there had to steal Ann. How else would someone like him get a wife? But why did you take me? I would think that with all Heath and I know about you, you would want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

A strange look came over his face. “Years ago I traveled out west to Comanche country. I was a trader.” He grimaced. “No money in that. It's hard work. But there was this squaw. As soon as I saw her, I knew I had to have her. One day when she was down at the river, I took her. Unfortunately, her brother found us. I could tell from the look on his face that he would have my scalp on his belt before sundown. So I lit out. Never knew what happened to her until I came to Adobe Wells. Seems her people deserted her and she married a white man. Sandy Johns.”

Stevie's face blanched. “You're not . . .”

“Your father? No. Fortunately, the timing's not right.

“But you're so much like Swan—except you have more spirit—and I never got my fill of her.”

“And Jeff?”

“No. I'm not his father either. Might've saved his life if I had been.”

Bright spots of crimson warmed Stevie's cheeks. “You killed him?” her voice was a husky whisper.

“Sims shot him.”

Enraged, Stevie lunged at him. Just then the door burst off its hinges. Simultaneously, solid bodies came hurtling through the windows. Chap backhanded Eugene, knocking him unconscious. Rad untied Ann and wrapped her in his arms.

By the time Heath and Jeff got to Judge Jack, Stevie was sitting on the judge's chest, the point of her knife pressed against his neck. A single drop of blood glistened in the morning light.

“I'd shove it in,” Jeff hissed.

Heath wrapped his arms around Stevie's shoulders and pulled her up against him. “He's not worth it.” He turned toward Leon and his cousin. “Go for the police.”

“Heath,” Stevie cried, burying her face in his chest.

Jay bound and gagged the judge, then stood to his feet.

At his side, Jeff said, “Don't I even get a hello?”

Stevie stiffened in Heath's embrace. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and swiveled her toward her brother.

She gasped, cried, and threw herself against Jeff with such force that he almost lost his footing. “Whoa, don't be so rowdy.” He patted her abdomen.

She reddened. “You know?”

“That I'm to be an uncle?”

She nodded. Eyes hard, he raised them to Heath. Stevie clamped her hand over her mouth and turned around. “You know?”

A smile lit his face. “That I'm to be a father?”

The mist glistening in Heath's eyes was her undoing. Choking a sob, she stumbled into his embrace. He lifted her chin with a tanned finger. “Stephanie Johns, will you marry me?”

“You're damn right she will,” Jeff said harshly.

Heath shot his future brother-in-law a hot glare. “I would hear it from her.” His voice gentled. “Will you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

The ensuing kiss was long and filled with promise. With one arm around Stevie's shoulders, Heath stretched his hand out to Jeff. “Satisfied?”

Jeff saw the unadulterated joy on his sister's face. He shook Heath's hand firmly. And his voice was gruff when he said, “You're damn right I am.”